The Fox Phantom of the Opera
by ZooCross0vers
Summary: At L'Opéra Populaire, down deep within its old torture chambers lies a secret long since buried and believed to be dead. Judith Hopps, an aspiring singer, becomes the object of affection of an unseen mysterious voice. The ghost - the Phantom of the Opera - her Angel of Music and the holder of a secret conspiracy that once brought death to the vengeful phantom himself.
1. Prologue

_**A/N:**_

_**WARNING: This story is rated M, for descriptions of murder, violence and some language. **_

_**PLEASE NOTE: Though the majority of the fic will follow Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera, it will also take some very minor elements/songs from ALW's Love Never Dies, the 1925 Phantom of the Opera film with Lon Chaney, and a couple of very minor details from Gaston Leroux's original novel, **__**Le Fantôme de l'Opéra - and of course, a good chunk of it will also be my own original changes. HOPE YOU ENJOY! ;)**_

_**.**_

_**Author's Introduction: **_

_**Fic 005, ladies and gentlemen. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera, a mystery never fully explained. We're told ladies and gentlemen that **__**this**_ _**is the crossover many have been waiting for...a crossover between Phantom of the Opera and Zootopia! In making this crossover, perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little read. Gentlemen…? - cue "Phantom of the Opera" theme -**_

...

**The Fox Phantom of the Opera**

**Prologue:**

_Zootopia, circa 1859_

A smile came upon the young fox kit's face as he stood at the wings of the stage in the dimly lit opera house. Young Nick Wilde, the juvenile fox in question, found the art of opera quite invigorating. It was as if angels themselves had come to lift his young spirit into the other worldly serendipity that was their heavenly voices. To him, there was no greater gift in this world save for the beauty that was opera music - more so in particular on this day, his sixth birthday. And truly, what greater gift could he receive? But to watch up close as his mother, Amelia Wilde, took center stage to sing the soprano solo number of his father's latest musical masterpiece, _Hannibal_.

The gentle piano melody of the song, "Think of Me" began to play down from the orchestra pit. The harmonious melody was being played by none other than Nick's own father, Jonathan Wilde.

_**Think of me, **_

_**Think of me fondly **_

_**When we've said goodbye **_

Being the child of opera lovers, he had come to know many divine voices in his short lifetime, but truly...none could ever match up to the angelic voice that was his mother's - the star and prima donna of his parent's illustriously growing opera house, Le Palais du Renard.

_**Remember me, once in a while **_

_**Please promise me you'll try **_

Her voice was truly a heavenly spectacle all on its own. More so, when it was she who performed the awe inspiring music penned by his father - an incredibly talented musical playwright, a pianist, entrepreneur, as well as his mother's duet partner from time to time.

_**When you find that once again you long **_

_**To take your heart back and be free **_

_**If you ever find a moment **_

The gorgeous red vixen on stage turned her gaze toward the wing on the right and spotted her young son standing there with a joyful, unwavering grin. The vixen's emerald eyes glowed as bright as her son's own equally emerald eyes as she caught his gaze with a loving smile. A smile filled with all the love a mother could give her "handsome boy" - as she would so lovingly call her dear little son.

_**Spare a thought for me**_

As Nick stood there, the music began to escalate for his mother as the rest of the orchestra joined in.

_**We never said,**_

_**Our love was evergreen,**_

_**Or as the unchanging sea,**_

Nick turned his attention to the audience. He could see it in all their eyes. A sight he never thought would ever be so present in the eyes of other mammals for a fox or a vixen - awe. Though yes he himself was too young to notice these things, he often times overheard his parents worry about how they feared their opera house would never be a success given how low other mammal's expectations were of foxes.

But this...what he was witnessing now, completely contradicted those fears. If such prejudice lied in their hearts...then how? How could they work themselves to come and watch a vixen take center stage and move them beyond comprehension?

For Nick, he believed he knew the answer and it was the very thing his father often times said, _If there is one thing that brings all mammals together, it is music._

_**But if you can still remember,**_

_**Stop and think of me**_

The red vixen's gaze turned toward her husband's down in the orchestra pit. She smiled at him just as she sang her last line, and he in turn smiled fondly back at her with a puff of his chest - his heart swelling with an undeniable love for her.

_**Think of all the things we've shared and seen,**_

_**Don't think about the way things might have been**_

_**Think of me,**_

_**Think of me waking**_

_**Silent and resigned**_

_**Imagine me,**_

_**Trying too hard**_

_**To put you from my mind**_

Quite a few mammals of all shapes and sizes from the audience sniffled at the beauty of her voice. They wiped their tears, while others simply sighed, overwhelmed by the grace in her voice. None of them had ever heard anything quite like her. A true wonder of nature. A true angel of music.

_**Recall those days,**_

_**Look back on all those times,**_

_**Think of the things we'll never do,**_

_**There will never be a day,**_

_**When I won't think of youuu!**_

Despite the overwhelming love and positivity from the audience, there was one dark cloud among the crowd...

Up on balcony five - better known as the best seat in the house at Le Palais du Renard, sat the Bellwether family. Patriarch, Beau Bellwether sat with a gruff look on his face as did his three ram associates, Woolter, Jessie, and Mathiewe Woolquet. Beside Beau sat his wife, Aurora Bellwether, and their seven-year old daughter Dawn Bellwether.

The Bellwethers were no fools. They could see the audience's love for the vixen on stage radiating throughout the entirety of the opera house. Though none more than Aurora Bellwether, who steamed at the sight of the vixen. The sheep threw a sharp glare at her husband, who returned her gaze with fear. With a single flare of her nostrils, she couldn't take another lyric from the vixen. So she stood and snatched her young daughter by the hoof and pulled her away with her from the balcony and into the corridor.

"Aurora!" called her husband after her, meanwhile the other rams stared at him awkwardly. Beau noticed their stares, causing them to clear their throats and cease their staring. Beau growled in frustration and ran after his wife and child. "Aurora!"

Beau caught up with her, seizing her by the arm, "Aurora! Aurora please. What is this abou-?"

Aurora pulled her arm away from his grip. "Don't you question me what this is about! You know damn well what this is about!" She paused, releasing some of her anger in huffs of breaths, "You told me that the only reason you funded that ridiculous fox's opera house was to have a place where _I_ would be the star! _Me_! Not _his_ wife! Not that-that vixen filth on stage!"

"But dear, you were the one that said you didn't want to be a part of his-"

"I don't care what I said! That fox doesn't understand my art! And what of our daughter?! You promised you'd make stars of both of us and where are we now?! Is that _us_ being loved and adored on stage?! Or is it that vixen bitch?!" Beau's mouth gaped to answer, only to have his wife quickly interrupt him once more. "You paid for this place! This should be _your_ opera house! Not _his_! And if you're too much of a coward to make that happen, then let the wolves take you! Or in this case, let the foxes have you!" Aurora tugged at her daughter's arm and continued storming off.

"Aurora? Where are you going?!" called her husband - concerned, angry, and heartbroken.

"It's over Beau! Have fun with your fox den of an opera house!" She stormed off for good this time, dragging her daughter in tow. Beau Bellwether meanwhile just stood there, paralyzed and unable to believe that his already faltering marriage had truly fallen apart for good this time. After another moment of self pity, he growled and hit a hard fist against the wall.

He angrily marched back to his seat on the balcony.

His ram associates lightly stared at him when he walked back in, noticing that his wife and daughter did not come back with him.

After a moment of awkward silence, Woolter at last spoke to him, "Master Bellwether? Are you okay?" Beau said nothing, he merely looked back down to the performance on stage where Amelia Wilde continued to sing and be adored by the crowd around her.

_**Flowers fade,**_

_**The fruits of summer fade**_

_**They have their seasons,**_

_**So do we,**_

_**But please promise me,**_

_**That sometimes you will think…**_

_**O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-o-O-o-o-o...**_

_**O-OOOOOOOf MEEEEE!**_

All around the vixen, mammals of all shapes and sizes stood to applaud and cheer for her - for her heavenly and unique voice. "Bravo!" "Encore!" They cheered between whistles. Nick too applauded for his mother from the wings. "Bravo Mother!"

It was all so contagious that even Woolter, Jessie and Mathiewe found themselves applauding and whistling for the vixen. "Yeah!" "Encore!"

Beau quickly shot them a death glare that caused Mathiewe to flinch in fear. He immediately elbowed his friends to make them take notice. They too, took one look at Bellwether's face and quickly stopped. "Uh, we mean, boo?"

Beau shook his head at their stupidity. He returned his gaze back down to the stage when the musical came to an end. The cast took their places behind Amelia and they all bowed in unison.

Jonathan Wilde clapped eagerly with a bouquet of roses tucked underneath his arm. He jogged on stage and lifted his wife from the waist, twirling her and causing Amelia to release a squealing giggle. They shared a soft kiss and he awarded her with the bouquet of roses.

The audience cheered the tender act of affection - all except for Beau and his rams. To Beau the act just filled him with an unmitigated rage.

Things only got worse for the jealous ram when both Amelia and Jonathan called their young son over to take a bow with them. Nick all too happily rushed on stage to stand beside his parents as they and the rest of the cast took another bow together.

Beau took one final look at the happy family on stage. He snorted in anger as he stood from his seat. "Boss?" Jessie asked, "Where are you going?"

Beau turned to them, ominously. "We're going to have a little chat with our dear friend Mr. Wilde." The three rams nodded, knowingly and followed him out of the balcony.

The audience roared and cheered as the curtain fell, closing the show. Backstage nearly everyone patted Jonathan on the back and gave Amelia a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations you two! I think this was our best show yet!"

Once his parents were free from their praise, Nick dashed back to his mother to give her a great big hug! "You were great Mother!"

"Aww! Why thank you sweetheart," she gave him a kiss on his cheek, "So did my handsome boy enjoy the show?"

"Yeah! Best birthday present ever, if you ask me!"

"Well, let's just hope you haven't had enough of presents, because your mother and I have something else for you."

"Really?" the fox kit's eyes lit up.

"You bet!" Jonathan tussled the fur at the top of his son's head. "Come on, let's head over to your mother's dressing room so you can see it."

"Can we have cake too?" the kit asked eagerly as his father lifted on his shoulders.

"Of course! It's your birthday after all!" Jonathan chuckled as he and his family headed towards his wife's dressing room.

In the shadows, the four rams watched the happy family of foxes head in the opposite direction. Mathiewe took a step forward, ready to get down to business when Beau held him back. "Not yet," he scanned the backstage area, realizing that there were still too many witnesses around. "They're not leaving any time soon. We'll wait 'till everyone else clears out."

.

Moments later…

The Wilde's gathered round a table inside Amelia's dressing room as Nick blew out a candle from his cake. "Yay!" His mother cheered and clapped alongside her husband. "Mwhua!" she gave Nick a kiss on his cheek, "So what did my handsome boy wish for?"

"Was it for another present?" Jonathan asked, "Because something tells me your wish is about to be granted." From behind his back, Jonathan brought forth a small present.

Nick's eyes lit up like emerald gems at the sight of it and he eagerly took the present from his father's paws. He removed the bow and lid from it and pulled out a papier-mache music box in the shape of a barrel organ. On top of it, sat a little toy rabbit dressed in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. Nick set it on the table and turned the little handle on the side of it. The toy rabbit played the cymbals as a soft and beautiful little melody played from the music box itself - one that truly resonated with Nick. "Wow!" he exclaimed in awe. When the melody stopped. Nick happily threw his arms around both his father and mother in a hug, "Thanks Mother! Thanks Father! This is the best present ever!"

Jonathan chuckled with joy, "I knew you'd like it! You're a born musician. Just like your old tod."

"Don't forget a gifted singer like his mother," Amelia added with a nuzzle to her son's cheek.

"Mom," Nick groaned yet giggled with embarrassment at her affection.

"That's true," Jonathan agreed, "Which is why for my next musical, I've decided to-"

_Knock, knock, knock!_

The three foxes turned to face the door. "Huh? Wonder who that could be? I'm sure most of the cast and crew have already gone home by now," Jonathan said as he stood up to open the door. On the other side of the door stood the four sheep. "Monsieur Bellwether?" Jonathan stated a bit confused, "What are you doing here so late?"

"I could ask the same as you," Beau replied casually with an eerily calm and friendly smile. "Working late?"

"No, we were just celebrating my son's birthday. As well as my lovely Amelia's performance, of course."

"Yes, of course," Beau nodded with a forced smile. He turned his attention to Amelia and Nick. "Madame Wilde. Nicky, happy birthday."

"Thank you," Nick replied politely, yet slightly intimidated by the ram.

"Did you enjoy the show, Monsieur Bellwether?" Amelia asked politely.

"It was sublime Madame," he said while once again forcing a smile. "It's no wonder you're prima donna of this _illustrious _opera house." He replied, turning his attention back to Jonathan, hoping he noticed his dive.

"Where are Aurora and Dawn?" Jonathan asked curiously, finally noticing that neither of the two sheep was present. "We reserved the best seats in the house for you and your family."

"Yes well, my wife and daughter weren't feeling well, so they left prematurely." The ram replied, attempting to, but ultimately failing to hide his spite.

His tone did not go unnoticed by Jonathan. The red fox was no fool, he knew there was more to this late night 'friendly' visit and he figured it had something to do with Aurora Bellwether. Jonathan nodded with a lowered gaze and awkwardly cleared his throat, "Monsieur Bellwether, would you and your uh... associates, care to speak with me in my office? I mean, it is my son's birthday and I'd really hate to, you know, bore him with theater politics." Jonathan forced a small light-hearted chuckle to ease the hidden tension in the room.

"Yes of course. I fully understand. Please excuse us," Beau told Amelia and Nick before leaving the room.

"I'll be right back," Jonathan said to his family. But before he could close the door behind him, Amelia immediately raced to him.

"John," she said quietly and concerned. Her husband turned to her. "If this is what I think it's about, then shouldn't I go with you? I mean, perhaps this is my fault and-"

Jonathan lifted a paw gently hushed her, "No my dear. You did nothing wrong. I made a choice despite knowing what could happen. Don't worry about a thing," he assured her with a gentle caress at her cheek, "I've dealt with Beau before. We'll work something out as we always do. Now you just stay here with Nick and have some cake. I'll come join you both shortly after." He kissed her to calm her nerves.

But Amelia still couldn't help but feel something off about this meeting as she watched her husband walk away with the rams. "Mother?" Nick asked quietly behind her. She knew that he felt concerned as well, given the worry in his tone. "Is everything alright?" He asked innocently of her.

She smiled calmly at the kit, "Of course sweetheart. Your father just needs to discuss some things with Monsieur Bellwether." She closed the door and escorted her son back inside the room, "Now come, why don't we eat some cake while we wait for your father?"

"But, I wanted to wait for father," protested Nick.

"Very well then, how about we…oh!" Amelia turned her attention to the organ inside her dressing room, "Why don't we prepare a little song for your father while we wait for him, hmm? Really show him just how beautiful of a voice you have?"

"Okay!" Nick eagerly sat beside his mother on the cushioned bench, "What should we play?" he asked.

Amelia giggled at her son's enthusiasm. "Whatever you want sweetheart. Something that'll really show your father that you would be able to sing alongside me for his next musical."

Nick's eyes widened and practically sparkled at the thought of being able to sing up on stage alongside his mother, "Really? You think father would include me in one of his musicals?!"

"Well, I might've heard a little rumor," his mother teased, "So why don't we show him that you've got what it takes," she said with a wink.

Nick nodded eagerly and quickly began playing a tune he had long had in his head. Amelia giggled at how much her husband was right regarding their son's love of music. He truly was a music lover if she had ever seen one - and a naturally gifted one at that! A true child prodigy of music. There was no doubt in her mind that one day her handsome boy would be revered as a talented musical playwright and singer in his own right. And who knows? Perhaps he would also one day marry a beautiful soprano to match his own love of music.

As Nick played, he began to sing. His voice was light and beautiful - an early sign that his voice would eventually develop into a strong, masculine baritone or tenor.

_**Mother, isn't it beautiful?**_

_**Isn't the music beautiful?**_

His mother joined in:

_**I can hear it, the music**_

_**It's wonderful,**_

_**It's so very beautiful…**_

Nick:

_**Sing,**_

_**Sing for me mother,**_

Amelia:

_**Aahhh**_

_**Aaahhhh**_

Nick:

_**Sing!**_

Amelia

_**Aahhh**_

_**Aaahhhh**_

Amelia playfully began to tickle her son's belly to which Nick stopped playing and giggled in response. They giggled together and Amelia gave him a little kiss on top of his head - she was so proud of her handsome boy.

.

Elsewhere...

Jonathan entered his office alongside the four rams. "Would any of you boys care for a drink?" Jonathan asked, pulling out a bottle of scotch.

"No thanks," responded Beau. Jonathan looked to the three rams. They said nothing, they merely snorted aggressively towards him.

"I take it that's a no," responded the red fox. "Don't mind me, I'll just have one." He poured himself a drink. Secretly intimidated, Jonathan gulped it down in one sip. He poured himself another one, though took his time this time, merely swiveling it around the glass in his paw.

He turned to face them. The rams just watched him in silence. Jonathan could feel the awkward tension in the air. He swiveled his glass once more and took a quick sip, clearing his throat right after as he made the move to speak first. "Listen Beau, I understand you're visibly upset. But your wife-"

"Yes, my wife," the ram cut in. "What of her?"

Jonathan set his glass down, "Yes, she uh...well, I'm sure you must know that she did not get the lead part-"

"And who's fault was that Wilde?!" yelled the ram, practically hounding over Jonathan.

"Look Beau, I don't know what to tell you," replied the fox in an attempt to calm the ram down, "But your wife stormed off stage and claimed that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me or my work. You saw her yourself during rehearsals."

"Are you saying this is my wife's fault?" the ram spat.

"No! All I'm saying is that I tried working with her to the best of my abilities. I even changed certain story elements to my libretto just to satisfy her needs. But no matter what I did nothing was good enough for her. The story was butchered and I tried to patiently explain this to her, but she didn't care to listen."

"And why should she?!" asked Beau, just as his associates also loomed over Jonathan. "Nobody cares about story in an opera! They come only to hear my darling wife's voice. I paid for this opera house! Not you! Yet you put your own wife in the lead role, rather than mine! Even though that's what we agreed to when I first decided to fund your stupid-or rather _my_ opera house!" Beau clasped his hoof against Jonathan's throat. "What kind of nepotism is that Wilde? Do you take me for a fool?!"

"N-No!" Jonathan strained, "I g-gave your wife the title role, but...what was I supposed to do? Tickets were sold out...I had to place my wife as a replacement…"

"You had to? _Had_ to?" the furious Beau launched the fox across the room, tossing him against a wall.

_CRASH!_

The crash of the fox's body caused all of the hanging frames on the wall to come crashing down.

.

Back in Amelia's dressing room,

Amelia and Nick continued to play happily until they heard the crash from a distance. "What was that?" Nick asked.

Amelia immediately stood from the bench without a word, her ears pressed tightly against her skull. She knew all too well that crash came from her husband's office - this could not be good. Not at all.

"Mother?" Nick asked again, his ears falling with worry.

"Listen darling, I want you to stay here and wait for me and your father, alright? Here," Amelia picked him up from the bench and sat him back at the table. She cut him a slice of his birthday cake, "Eat a piece of your cake and play with your present, okay?"

"But I wanted to wait for you and father," Nick repeated as before.

"I know sweetheart, I know. But tell you what, why don't you just go ahead and have a slice now and then when your father and I come back you can have a second one. I won't tell," she winked at him, forcing a playful smile behind her worry.

"Okay! Yeah!" Nick innocently agreed, completely forgetting about the crash he and his mother heard only a moment ago.

"Okay, now you just stay here and don't open the door for anyone. Do you hear me?" she begged.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, a tremble of fear in his voice.

"Just promise me. Please?" she begged once more.

"O-Okay, I won't," Nick promised at last.

His mother gave him a kiss on his forehead before heading out the door. "Be good Nicky, your father and I will be back soon." She closed the door behind her.

Nick sat there in silence. He didn't know why, but for some reason he felt a horrible shiver run down his spine. But what could there be to fear? His father was a smart fox and has dealt with Monsieur Bellwether before. What was there to worry about? He figured.

Nick shrugged the terrible feeling off and took a fork to dig into his cake. He ate a piece of it and turned the handle of his music box again. He smiled happily as the little bunny played and he took another bite of his cake.

.

Back in Jonathan's office...

The red fox rose to his elbows, wiping a paw to his bloody nose. He gasped quietly, unable to believe that his business partner had really just tossed him to a wall and injured him. He had seen Beau angry and annoyed with him before, but this time...was he really trying to kill him?

Jonathan shakily rose to his feet, holding an arm and leaning against the wall behind him for support. "B-Beau, why...why are you doing this?" he asked weakly and terrified of the ram.

"Why?" Beau approached him, "Why?!" Beau slammed his hoof to Jonathan's throat, pinning him against the wall. "Are you really that stupid to not have guessed at this point?! For as long as I've been in business with you, you've done nothing but make a fool of me! You foxes think you're so cunning, promising me that you would make my wife a star! Yet you clearly haven't tried hard enough with her! Even when she has headlined, you never hear crowds go crazy for her the way they have for _your _wife! So that tells me that you've been holding out on _my_ wife, but not _yours_!"

"T-That's not true, I did try...I-I d-don't know why they cheer more for Amelia...they just do," Jonathan strained. Though in truth, he knew full well why they cheered more for his wife and not Aurora Bellwether. He was telling the truth in that he did try to make Aurora a star, but not only did Aurora lack the natural charisma that his wife had, but she was simply not as good a singer as his wife. But of course given his current position, it would be foolish to admit the truth to the currently unstable ram.

Beau tightened his grip a bit more, causing Jonathan to grunt in pain. "Do you think I'm stupid Wilde?! Animals don't just cheer more for no reason! There has to be something you're doing right with your wife and not mine!"

"I-I'm not," Jonathan squeaked in a struggling voice, "P-Please calm down...i-if I've offended you...I'm sorry...Just please s-stop this…"

"I won't stop. Not this time! You've embarrassed my wife for the last time! Not to mention my daughter as well! Where is her stardom?! Huh?! You haven't put her in a single one of your musicals! Why is that?! Tell me!"

Beau loosened his grip to hear Jonathan's answer, but before the fox could answer, Mathiewe interrupted, "Boss, look at this!" The hornless brown ram handed Beau what appeared to be a libretto. Beau shoved Jonathan back. Jonathan fell back on the floor, gripping his throat in pain as Beau skimmed through the libretto.

With each new turn of the page, Beau grew more and more furious. He crouched down and harshly grabbed Jonathan by the collar of his shirt. "Is my family just one big joke to you Wilde? What is this?!" He bleated furiously, waving the open libretto to the fox's face. "What is this? Is this supposed to be your latest work? Your next masterpiece?! Huh?! If it is, then tell me why there are several pages of dialogue and songs listed for a little boy character, yet less than half for a little girl character?! Was this your sneaky fox way of making your son a star but not my precious Dawn?!"

"I-It's not...finished…" Jonathan replied weakly.

Beau went back a few pages, "The little boy's introduction, 'an adorable and beautiful boy with an eye for mischief'." Beau skips a page, "Now the little girl, 'an ugly and malformed little lamb'!" Beau forced Jonathan up by his throat against the wall, "Is that what you really think about my little Dawn?! Is this why you never cast her in anything?!"

"N-No of course not…" Jonathan rasped against the pressure to his throat. "T-That's only...for the story…i-it's about finding...the beauty...under-"

"Liar!" Beau shouted, forbidding him from finishing his statement.

Just as Beau shouted, Amelia found her way to Jonathan's office. She slowly approached, peering into the one available window beside the door of his office. She gasped the minute she spotted her husband pinned against the wall and his throat beneath Beau's grasp.

Without a second to waste, Amelia pushed open the door and rushed inside, "Jonathan!" The rams turned to her, as she ran to her husband, tugging at Beau's arm to release him. "Beau! What are you doing?! Let him go!" she screamed hysterically at the ram.

Woolter quickly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from her husband and Beau. "No! NO! JONATHAN!" The vixen screamed.

.

Back in Amelia's dressing room…

Little Nick dropped his fork just as he was about to take another bite of his cake. "M-Mother…?" he said in fear, his ears having fallen back against his little skull.

He took his music box in his paws and ran to the door, placing his small paw on the knob. He paused briefly, remembering that his mother had asked him to stay there and not open the door for anyone except his parents.

But...should he really listen and stay there? His mother sounded like she was in trouble! But maybe he'll get in trouble if he disobeys her? But then again, she never said anything about him leaving the room, so it should be okay, right?

Nick took the risk and opened the door, leaving the room with his precious music box in tow.

.

Back inside Jonathan's office...

Woolter and Jessie restrained Amelia by her arms, "Jonathan!" she shouted helplessly.

"Amelia!" Jonathan shouted, extending a helpless arm towards his wife. He wrestled in Beau's grasp, attempting to break free, "Tell them to let her go!"

"Why should they?" Beau tightened his grip on Jonathan, this time using both his hooves to choke him and lift his feet clean off the ground. Jonathan released a harsh squeal in pain as the ram dragged him up the wall.

"Jonathan!" Amelia screamed at the sight. "Please! Why are you doing this to my husband?! He's done nothing to deserve this!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Just outside the office, Nick cautiously approached the small open creak of the door, seeking comfort from the music box in his arms. He peered inside to witness his mother being restrained by the rams that normally accompanied his father's business partner, Beau Bellwether. At the wall, he saw said business partner choking his father against the wall. The little fox took a step back in fear, hiding in the shadows that the light of the fire in the coal stove from his father's office provided against the door.

"Nothing?!" Beau shouted in response, "Nothing you say? And you my dear? You think yourself innocent too? When it is you who are the biggest offender here!"

"Me? What?" Amelia questioned with a tremble of fear in her voice. "W-What have I done?"

"You stole my wife's love and admiration! That is what you've done! You scene stealing bitch!" Mathiewe whipped out a knife from beneath his coat's lapel and hovered it in front of Amelia's throat. She whimpered at the sight of it.

"No!" Jonathan cried helplessly, his voice evidently trembling in desperation. "B-Beau, please...I'll do anything...anything! I'll write in whatever you and your wife want! I-I'll let you dictate every word and put your daughter in! My family will take no part in future musicals! Just...please...don't hurt my wife...please…"

Beau took Jonathan's pleas into consideration for a moment. Given how desperate the fox sounded, he knew he would be true to his word. The ram glanced at both Jonathan and Amelia, it was evident from their mutual concern and fear that there was a clear bond of love between the two. A love that he no longer had the privilege to share with his own wife, for she had left him…

Left him...all because of _her...! That vixen and her traitorous husband!_

It was all because of _them! They_ took his family_! They took everything_ away from him!

But no more, his wife would see that she had made a terrible mistake by leaving him. He is a ram that gets things done! And he will be certain that _no one_ ever makes a fool of him or ever stands in a Bellwether's way _ever again!_

"I'm sorry Jonathan," the ram said simply and decidedly with a frighteningly malicious expression, "But you and your wife have made it all too clear that there is only one way to ensure that _no one_ stands in my precious Aurora's way."

"No!" Jonathan grunted and wrestled desperately in Beau's tight grasp, "You can't-!"

"I can! And _I will!_" the ram smirked wickedly. Beau nodded to Mathiewe.

"Jonathan…?" Amelia whimpered to her husband before Mathiewe slit her throat with the knife in one fell swoop. Jonathan and Nick both gasped, the shock making it near impossible to hear the air escape from either of them.

Woolter and Jessie released Amelia as her now free paws flew to her throat. She coughed and gagged as she fell to her knees. Jonathan watched on in horror as his wife fell completely to the floor in front of him, desperately gasping for air and slowly dying helplessly in a pool of her own blood.

"AMELIA!" Jonathan shouted in heart-wrenching despair.

"Looks like she won't be able to sing anytime soon, isn't that right Bellwether?" Jessie said with a chuckle. A chuckle soon accompanied by the laughter of Woolter, Mathiewe, and Beau.

As they joked and mocked the dying vixen, the tears couldn't stop flowing from Jonathan's eyes. He felt as if his heart were literally ripped right out of his chest and ripped to a million pieces. "YOU BASTARDS!" he cried, "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" he shouted as he writhed and wrestled to break free from Beau's grasp. The heartbroken Jonathan sunk his claws into Beau's arms, causing the ram to almost release him, but the equally furious ram fought through the pain. Using his own anger to further fuel his own adrenaline and lifted the fox even higher up than he already was.

"Agh-aghhh…" Jonathan's voice nearly all but vanished with the increased pressure from Beau's hooves.

It was clear that Beau would no longer hold back as Jonathan's eyes looked as if they were going to pop right out of his sockets and his red fur was turning purple. "I warned you Wilde, not to make a fool of me! Palais du Renard, is now mine!" Beau pitted his thumbs deep against Jonathan's throat and pressed with all his might.

Before long, Nick could only witness as he heard a hard...

_CRACK!_

After that, his father's legs stopped their violent kicking, and the paws that were gripped against Beau's arms, slid and slumped to his father's sides. He was completely limp and still as he dangled in Beau's grip.

His father was dead.

Nick's little jaw gaped in horror as he took another step back, dropping his little music box in the process. The music box began to play it's melody and the toy bunny played the cymbals alongside it.

"What was that?" Nick overheard one of the ram's declare.

The young kit quickly picked up his music box, hoping it wasn't damaged and that it would cease its playing...but it was too late. Before Nick knew it, the door was pulled open the rest of the way. Before him, stood the four rams, their hellish gazes were all on him. Down between their feet, he could see both of his parents' motionless bodies lying on the ground.

A disturbing silence filled the air until Beau smiled - a very unsettling smile, despite how friendly he tried to disguise it, "Nicky," he said, "What are you doing here?"

The kit couldn't answer, he merely trembled and whimpered in their presence and held his music box tightly against his chest. Beau took notice of the tears that filled his eyes.

"I take it you saw everything?" he asked.

Nick still said nothing, the frightened kit was at a loss for words. His terrified eyes could only wander until they landed on his parents' bodies once more.

Beau's eyes followed the kit's, "I'm sorry it had to come to this, but your parents gave me no choice Nicky." Nick continued to whimper and cry in silence. "Nothing to say?" There was a pause, until Beau stepped forward. Nick took a step back. The ram placed a hurt hoof over his chest, "Why Nicky I'm hurt, don't you trust your Uncle Bellwether anymore? I know things look bad, but you know I would never hurt you," Beau wrapped an arm around Nick's small shoulders, leading the petrified kit into his father's office. "You're my dear little Dawn's friend after all, aren't you?"

Nick slowly nodded in agreement, but more due to fear than any other reason. In truth, he didn't really like Dawn all that much. She was far too sensitive and found something wrong with every game they ever played together.

"Good," Beau said pleased, "Then a sweet and adorable boy like you, doesn't think that she's ugly or malformed do you?" Nick shook his head, not wanting to disagree with anything the ram said. "Good, it's good that you think that way," Beau picked up Jonathan's libretto from the floor, "Then I trust you had nothing to do with your father calling my daughter "ugly and malformed" in his libretto?" Nick quickly shook his head in response. "You think she's beautiful then right?" Nick began shaking his head 'no', until he remembered that being honest wasn't a good idea and quickly nodded 'yes'.

"You said no? So you _do _think my little girl is ugly then?!" Beau huffed in anger.

Nick once again shook his head no as more tears streamed down his already wet face. Beau clenched the little fox's face with a harsh hoof, causing the little kit to drop his music box on the floor once more.

"I knew it!" Beau sneered furiously, "I knew all you foxes were all alike! You and your father and mother are all the same trash! Thinking you're better than everyone else! Calling you an adorable and handsome boy, while my daughter is called ugly and malformed! And you only confirmed that you think just like your father! Well, we'll just see who's child is the ugliest after I'm through with you!"

Beau kept clenching at Nick's cheeks and placed another hoof at the scruff of his neck, lifting him off the ground and carrying him over to the coal stove at the corner of the room. "Woolter!" Beau called to his associate, "Grab a shovel full of coal and set it on the table!"

Without a word or hesitation, Woolter obliged. Jessie opened the stove's door while Woolter took a shovel and scooped up a shovel full of red hot burning coals. He set it on the table and held the handle to keep it still for Beau.

Poor little Nick could only see the red coals on the table, as he was being carried over to them. He was so traumatized that he could barely utter a word, releasing only a series of whimpering, "N-N-N!"

The next thing the little kit heard was the sound of sizzling, followed by an unbearable heat against the right side of his face.

.

Outside of the opera house, a male marble fox and male wolf approached the back door. They were the opera house's night watchmammals, there to protect the theater from any unwanted intruders. The marble fox carried the ring of keys and began unlocking the door.

"Just hope Monsieur Wilde doesn't mind if we're a little late."

"Well we might've been on time if you hadn't made us go out for a drink first," replied the wolf.

"Hey, I work better with alcohol in my system, I've told you that bef-" the marble fox had just barely managed to get the door open when both he and the wolf heard a high-pitched blood curdling scream echoe from inside.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The marble fox dropped the keys in fear. "What was that?" he asked as the screaming did not stop. They looked at one another and quickly rushed in.

.

Back inside Jonathan's office…

Nick ceased his screaming as he lost consciousness from the horrid pain he had just suffered through. Beau turned him over to get a good look at his face. "Oogh!" he uttered in disgust, "It's really no question who's child is the ugliest now. Don't you think so boys?"

Beau turned him over so the other rams could also see the damage. Their disgust was beyond evident in their faces as they even gagged a little at the sight.

"Looks like you're not a handsome boy anymore, huh?" Beau asked the unconscious kit with a devilish smile, proud of his work.

"Who's in here?" a random voice asked out loud, frightening the four rams. In his shock, Beau released Nick from his grip and dropped the unconscious kit, but not before the kit fell against the handle of the shovel and flung the searing hot coal all over Jonathan's office. A few of them landed on top of Jonathan's libretto and on a pile of costumes that were lying in his office. Before long a fire surged and began to quickly spread around the office.

"Oh crap! Who was that?!" Jessie asked in a panic.

"Must be the nightwatch!" Beau responded.

"What do we do? The fire's spreading?!" a panicking Mathiewe called out.

"We get out of here before they catch us is what we do!" Beau responded, heading out toward the door and dodging the quickly growing flames.

The four rams ran to the door, until Woolter turned to glance back. "What about the kid? Is he still alive? What if he talks?"

"He won't talk," Beau responded confidently, "The flames will get him before he wakes!" The flames began spreading out toward the door, "Come on! Let's go before the fire spreads everywhere!" The four rams ran clean out the door just as the growing flames completely blocked any chance of entry or exit from the door.

As soon as they were gone, the marble fox and wolf finally caught up to Jonathan's office, "Whoa!" the marble fox cried out once he saw the large fire that was quickly starting to spread even outside of Jonathan's office.

"What happened here?!" The wolf shouted in shock just as the flames spread up and onto the theater's large curtains dangling just outside Jonathan's office.

"You don't think Monsieur Wilde was in there do you?" the fox asked. "Monsieur Wilde?!" he called in a panic with no response, save for the roar of the crackling fire as it destroyed a rope holding on to one of the fly rails. It fell only halfway, but enough to scare the fox and wolf.

"We have to get out of here before this whole place collapses!" The wolf shouted.

"What about Monsieur Wilde?!" the marble fox shouted back.

The fly rail collapsed even further down. The wolf looked over to the office, the door was completely covered with fire. "I don't think he could live through that if he were inside! We have to go! We have to go!" The two run away back out the back door.

Meanwhile back inside Jonathan's office, Nick began to stir. The harsh shadows that the fire cast on the right side of his face hid the searing and ungodly painful damage that the rams had caused him. The little kit whimpered and cried at the pain as even his tears burned his wounds. He desperately wanted his parents to comfort him, but he knew that wouldn't be happening this time. He could still see his father laying there on the ground, same with his mother. But now there was also fire! Little Nick hyperventilated, and grabbed his music box before the fire could get at it.

He stood and looked all around him. What was he supposed to do?! There was fire everywhere!

"Nicky…" he heard an extremely fragile voice whisper. He turned to see that it was his mother. Her gaze was unfocused, but she was somehow still alive. Nick immediately crouched down beside her and began shaking her.

"Mother?" he finally croaked in an equally fragile voice, "Mother! Mother please get up! Get up!" he cried desperately to her.

"N-Nicky...Nicky…" it was all she could say until her gaze appeared to somewhat focus on the kit, "Nicky…" she smiled gently.

"Mother…" Nick said crying. He managed a slight smile, happy that she had recognized him.

Just as fast as her smile appeared it immediately vanished. A frown decorated her face as a new image came to her head, one not of her son, but of the last face she saw before her throat was cut. "...monster…"

Nick gasped in horror, believing the word - and the hate behind it - were directed at him, since his mother's fragile gaze never left him.

"...monster...stay away...stay...a-way…." her gaze fell from her son and remained still - perfectly still.

She was gone for good this time.

Her last words to her son, had left him paralyzed and in despair. Nick remained frozen as her words repeated over and over again in his head.

Nick could no longer feel the pain on his face, because his mother's words had hurt him far more than any physical pain ever could.

He was only snapped back into reality once he heard a piece of wood collapse and break the lone window of his father's office. The fire was spreading to his side of the room. He needed to find a way out! And he needed to find it now!

Nick stood, staring at his mother with sadness and resentment as new tears began to swell at his eyes. He then ran toward the open hole on the window and glanced back one last time at his dead parents and the fire that slowly approached them. His tears fell and he crawled out the window with his music box tucked under his arm.

Things weren't any better outside of his father's office. The fire was everywhere now.

The little kit didn't know what to do. He looked back hoping this was all one big nightmare and that his parents would come and rescue him, but that wasn't the case. It was all too real and his father's office was now completely engulfed in flames! Nick slowly stepped away, while his eyes remained glued on the sight. He shook his head in denial, the fire still casting a harsh shadow on the right side of his face.

He kept stepping backwards until he couldn't take the sight anymore, so he turned and ran toward the stage. He ran clean across it and stepped down from it. Nick ran toward the front row of seats when he stopped short as he heard something loud and heavy coming loose right above him. It was an immensely large decorative chandelier that's base was swarmed with fire. Nick stood there, frozen in horror as he watched it slowly come off bit by bit, until it finally snapped off the ceiling and came crashing down right above him. He was so petrified, that he found himself unable to do anything except stand there and watch it come down at him.

Before long, there was nothing but darkness and dead silence...

The following morning, there was nothing left of the opera house as it had completely burned to the ground. Even after hours of searching, the inspectors found nothing - not a trace of life or death. Le Palais du Renard and everyone and anything that may have once occupied its walls during the fire...was no more...

…

_**A/N: Wow this was a dark chapter...but then again do keep in mind that this **__**is**_ _**Phantom of the Opera. Some violence and murder will be expected.**_

_**Keep in mind, I absolutely do NOT condone child violence, which is why I tried to avoid going into too much detail regarding that one scene, but it is necessary to the story so please understand. **_

_**Don't know when the next chapter will be up but I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. I'm currently really invested and excited about this project! :D**_

_**Trivia/Spoilers: In the actual Phantom of the Opera, Erik (the phantom) was actually born with his disfigured condition. I went with a different approach here, but I hope you'll enjoy the changes this one big change will bring about to the rest of the story :)**_


	2. Chapter 1: L'Opéra Populaire

_**A/N: A new chapter! Hurray! Now we will finally be able to find out what happened to Nick! Is he alive or will he be a literal phantom (ie ghost)?**_

_**Just a couple heads up: **_

_**1) There is one song in the chapter and it's "Angel of Music" and it has different lyrics (the original song will appear at some point though, no worries) **_

_**2) If you want to follow its rhythm appropriately I will have a couple of links on my Tumblr that dictate which videos and which parts of those videos you should listen to, to follow it. I'd post the links here, but this site doesn't allow link sharing.**_

_**3) This is a really long chapter (it's about 45 pages long on docs), so hope you enjoy! :D**_

...

**Chapter 1: ****L'Opéra Populaire**

_Zootopia, 1881 (22 Years Later)..._

A hoof lifted a quill pen and dipped the feathered item into a vial of black ink to sign a document labeled, 'Deed'.

"There we are," said a male roe deer as he signed all management rights and full ownership of the illustrious opera house, L'Opéra Populaire, over to its new owners.

The composed yet secretly nervous wreck of a buck named, Monsieur LeRoe turned the document - as well as two copies of the same document - over to the new buyers. One of the new buyers was a middle aged, striped, light gray hare with hazel colored eyes named Norman Savage - Comte Norman Savage to be exact. The hare was accompanied by his two notaries, a large hulking cape buffalo named Bogo and his assistant, a chubby cheetah named Benjamin Clawhauser.

As for the second buyer, they were not present but their notary came in their place. The anonymous buyer's notary was a ram named Doug Ramses.

The four mammals signed the three documents. Once they were signed, they turned them back over to Monsieur LeRoe, who eagerly stamped them - finalizing the sale. He handed both parties a document each. "Here are your copies." The deer stood to shake their paws/hooves, "Gentlemammals, congratulations you are now the proud owners of the illustrious opera house, L'Opera Populaire."

"Thank you Monsieur LeRoe," said the hare, "We Savages have always been generous patrons of opera and theatre. So believe me when I say this is quite an honor."

"I can imagine," replied the buck deer, "I remember well that you were a regular here in our opera house during its first year."

"Indeed. I loved it so much. Truly one of my favorite opera houses and such a classic design, wouldn't you gentlemmammals agree?" Comte Savage asked the accompanying notaries.

"Yes, very gorgeous. Though I must admit I've never been inside it," said Doug.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing it myself either," answered the cape buffalo.

"Neither have I," the cheetah answered. "But I'll bet it's really pretty since it's considered one of the best Opera houses in all Zootopia."

"Quite," replied Bogo, "Though that does beg the question, why would anyone wish to sell such a prosperous Opera house. And at such a low cost I might add."

"If you'd like the short answer, my health," replied the roe deer. "I'm afraid I can't handle the stress of running a prestigious Opera house anymore. I often times can't even stand stepping inside it. That's how stressed it has me."

"Is that why we're meeting you here in your house's study instead of your office?" Clawhauser asked curiously.

"Yes," answered the buck deer, "I feel I have a greater sense of privacy...and peace here."

"Really?" questioned the hare, "I would believe working in an Opera house with beautiful music seeping through the walls would be quite relaxing to the soul."

"You wouldn't find it to be the case here," muttered the buck beneath his breath.

"What was that?" Comte Savage asked.

"Nothing," he quickly replied.

Suspicious, the four mammals glanced at one another. "Monsieur LeRoe, is there something you'd like to tell us about this Opera House that we don't know?" asked Doug on their behalf.

Monsieur LeRoe tapped his hooves on his desk, as if hiding something from them. "Perhaps you'd like to see the Opera house for yourselves? Come." The buck deer smiled politely and stood, leading the way.

.

The five mammals made their way across town toward L'Opéra Populaire inside of Monsieur LeRoe's carriage.

"Comte Savage, Monsieur Ramses," spoke LeRoe, "What do either of you or your client, Monsieur Ramses, know about L'Opéra Populaire?"

"Well, I know that it was constructed ten years ago," answered the Comte Savage.

"Actually construction began twelve years ago and it officially opened eleven years ago," corrected the roe deer.

"Ah yes, I was thinking back to the last time I visited the Opera house," the hare chuckled. "If I'm not wrong, I believe it was built where another Opera house once stood, was it not? What was its name again?" the middle aged hare snapped his fingers trying to remember the name. "Le-Le...oh! Le Palais du Renard! That was it wasn't it? The one that was destroyed during a fire a little over twenty years ago?"

"Yes, that's correct," nodded the buck deer.

"The owners died in the fire too, didn't they?" asked Doug, "I believe it was in all the papers."

Monsieur LeRoe nodded, "Yes, the Wilde family. Jonathan Wilde, his wife Amelia Wilde. Even their young six year old son, Nick Wilde. All three of them were caught in the fire and died that night."

Clawhauser gasped, covering his mouth with his paws, "That's terrible. Poor things."

"Yes, it was truly a tragedy," said Monsieur LeRoe, "I was a big fan of Monsieur Wilde's work. I even attended that final performance when the Opera house burned to the ground. It was without a doubt one of the most beautiful performances and opera pieces I have ever seen or heard! And his wife's voice, ah! It was as if an angel were singing on stage, it was so beautiful."

"Quite," agreed the hare, "I believe I may have attended a couple of performances at Le Palais du Renard. That vixen was quite gifted."

"Without question," said the buck deer with a nod. "I loved that Opera house so much that I designed a good portion of both its internal and external design after Le Palais du Renard's."

"Interesting," said the striped hare, "I thought its architectural design looked familiar. I know my late friend Stuart Hopps once told me that it was at one of Le Palais du Renard's performances that inspired him to follow his dream of becoming a musician. God rest his soul."

"Stuart Hopps?" asked Monsieur LeRoe, "You mean the world famous violinist, Stuart Hopps?"

"The very same," Comte Savage nods.

"Ah yes," replied the buck deer, "I do seem to remember him briefly being a part of our orchestra about eleven years ago. I'm happy he made a name for himself, but I am saddened to hear that he's passed on. When did he die?"

"Last month I believe."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," said LeRoe with sympathy. "He was a good mammal. And talented with the violin."

Comte Savage nodded, "I don't know if you know this yet, but he has a daughter. Judith Hopps? I heard she is to become a ballerina at your Opera house."

"Perhaps," replied LeRoe, "I don't know the specifics of my incoming dancers. That's Madame Winter's department. I was traditionally in charge of all other performers. Namely my star leads, but not so much these days."

"Why is that?" Doug asked.

"Well…" began the buck deer, "...there is a certain rumor circling around the Opera house, though I take it from your knowledge and facial expressions that none of you here have heard of it yet. Have you?"

The four mammals accompanying Monsieur LeRoe, glanced at one another, curious to see if perhaps one of them knew what it was the roe deer was talking about. None of them did. They merely shrugged at one another, completely clueless.

"Rumor?" spoke Comte Savage on their behalf.

LeRoe watched them all then exhaled a heavy, hesitant sigh. He wished he could avoid telling them the truth about why he had decided to sell the Opera house, but he knew all too well that they would eventually learn its dark secret - sooner or later.

.

At L'Opera Populaire…

A black sheep in a ballerina outfit lit a matchstick on fire. She smiled eagerly to her friends gathered around her - a female pig and a golden furred female rabbit. The black sheep, named Sharla, lit up one of many candles with the match. Around the three mammals were the other members of their ballerina troupe. The girls consisted of pigs, sheep, rabbits, vixens, skunks, and raccoons.

All the girls gathered round a circle of candles which they all lit together. The ballerina dancers held paws/hooves and looked at one another, eager, scared, and curious. "Do you think he'll show up?" Sharla asked eagerly.

"I-I hope not," responded a white, cowardly rabbit named Jamie.

As the girls talked amongst themselves, another fellow ballerina by the name of Skye Winter, a pale yellow furred vixen with sapphire colored eyes, walked alongside the Opera house's current prima donna, a tall gazelle appropriately named Gazelle. The two girls talked and walked just as they came across the other girls.

"Yeah, right?" Skye giggled with the gazelle until she turned her attention to her fellow ballerinas. "What the? What are you girls doing gathered in a circle like that? Rehearsal is in five minutes. Come on! Chop! Chop! Before my mother has a fit."

"We'll be there in a minute Skye," responded Sharla on their behalf. "We just want to see if we can summon…you know..." Sharla looked around as if making sure no one except those around her were listening. "The Phantom!"

"The Phantom?" asked Gazelle. "Why would you want to summon him?"

Skye placed a paw at her snout, "Ugh...not this again. When are you girls going to get it through your heads? There is no Phantom!"

"Yeah, there is," argued Sharla, "Jamie says she saw him the other day. Tell her Jamie."

Jamie, trembled and fiddled with her fingers. "W-Well... I-I didn't actually see him I-"

"See?" Skye cut in, "Now come on, my mother's waiting for us."

"W-What I meant was...um…" the shy white rabbit continued, "I didn't see the ghost himself, b-but I s-saw his shadow."

"His shadow?" Gazelle asked curiously, "Really? What did he look like?"

"Gazelle?!" Skye retorted, unable to believe her friend was playing along with their ridiculous game.

"What? You must admit Skye, this is kind of interesting," replied the gazelle. Skye shook her head in annoyance. "What did he look like?" Gazelle asked again.

"H-He looked like he might have been wearing a tuxedo o-or a frac a-and he wore a hat and he k-kind of looked like a fox. O-Or at least his tail looked like a fox's."

"A fox?" Gazelle asked, "So the rumors that it's a fox are true then?"

"We don't know for sure yet. That's what we want to find out!" said Sharla eagerly.

"When did you see him?" Gazelle asked the rabbit.

"Last week," answered Sharla on the rabbit's behalf. "That's why we want to hold a séance for him. See if we can make contact with the spirit."

"Do you really think he'll show up?" asked another girl.

Skye shook her head, growing impatient with her fellow ballet dancers. "Yeah well this has all been exciting and all, but we really should be heading to rehearsal. An old friend of mine is coming later today and we may also have to impress our potential buyers in case Monsieur LeRoe actually does bring them by."

One of the girls, a pig named May Swinton, scoffed at Skye's order. "Please Skye, we all know that this isn't about impressing any potential buyers. This is about you hoping to impress Vicomte Jack Savage, isn't it?" The pig asked with a teasing sway of her shoulders.

The vixen blushed at her words.

One of the other girls noticed, "Ooh! Is that the old friend you're waiting for?" she asked with a teasing giggle. Soon enough all the girls were giggling at the vixen.

"N-No!" Skye spat with an all too evident blush still plastered on her face. "H-He's not coming...at least I don't think he is..." The girls kept staring at her with knowing smirks. "Look, he may have been my childhood crush but I don't like him that way anymore. The old friend I'm talking about is Judy Hopps. You know, the bunny I told you all would be joining our ballet troupe?"

"Yeah, sure," said May with a roll of her eyes.

"Ugh, fine! If I let you girls waste your time with this stupid séance, will you please stop teasing me about my personal life?" Skye bargained with them, hoping they would let her be.

"Sure," May agreed.

"Come join us in the circle then," Sharla said invitingly. "You too Gazelle!"

"Okay!" Gazelle joined in eagerly, taking Sharla's hoof. The gazelle then waved at Skye to join them.

The vixen just rolled her eyes and joined them. "This is so stupid. We really should be rehearsing. I mean, it's not like we're going to see anything. And even if we could see something, Mother always told me that if restless spirits truly were an existing thing, then they should be left alone lest you face their wrath. And I'm sure this Phantom is no exception given his so called history with..._incidents_."

Jamie suddenly began trembling as she thought back on all the incidents that have occurred at L'Opéra Populaire - both the small meaningless ones and the more..._violent _ones. "Y-You know, m-maybe Skye's right. Maybe we should go rehearse now. Madame Winter will surely be very angry with us if-" Jamie tried to leave, but the other girls pulled her back down.

"Relax," said Sharla. "We're just testing out to see if we see or hear anything. Maybe Skye is right and we won't see anyone."

"Yeah," agreed Gazelle, "This is all in good fun. Besides, we haven't had much activity going on lately. Maybe he went away already."

"How could he? He was just here last week," said May.

"Not helping, May," said Gazelle, annoyed at the pig for not playing along.

"Mmm, I personally just want to know if he was good looking or not," said a flirty, boy crazy red vixen named Scarlett, "I heard rumors from some of the set crew that they think it's Jonathan Wilde's ghost. And I heard he was a real looker."

"You think?" asked another girl.

"Alright, alright!" interrupted Sharla, growing restless with all the interruptions. "Will everyone just focus so we can get this over with? The candles are starting to melt and I don't want us to accidentally burn down another Opera house on this same location."

"Okay. Fine," the collective of girls agreed.

Sharla and the others closed their eyes as she led them in the séance, "Oh spirit of the Opera, we humbly ask you to make yourself present to us. Tell us who you are and why you haunt our Opera house. Please oh spirit, give us a sign of your presence. Let us know you are here."

There was a long silent pause. Nothing. Not a sign was given to them.

Curious, all the girls opened their eyes and saw and heard nothing. Some of them groaned in disappointment, while most of them sighed in relief. Though a skeptic, Skye also sighed in relief. "See? I told you girls this was all just a bunch of nonse-"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

A haunting and unseen echoing male voice suddenly laughed in a very maniacal way - frightening the girls beyond belief!

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

They all screamed in unison and ran off toward the stage.

.

Just as the girls screamed and ran away, Monsieur LeRoe and his new buyers entered the opera house's back entrance.

"A Phantom?" asked Comte Savage in disbelief. "Forgive me Monsieur LeRoe, but I still can't believe it. You must surely be joking?"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" the girls screamed in the distance.

The five mammals turned to the frightened wails. "I'd say I'm not given that," said Monsieur LeRoe as he and the others ran toward the source of the screams.

At the stage, a short statured fennec fox by the name of Finnick called up to some stage hands, "Alright guys, bring down that set real slow like. Gentle...gentle...gen-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" The group of girls swarmed the small fennec fox for protection. Gazelle in particular, fell to her knees and clinged to his neck.

"Agh!" the little fox gagged as the other frightened girls joined the tall Gazelle in seeking comfort from him. "Gazelle? Ladies? What the hell's goin' on?" he strained between all their smothering.

"We saw him!"

"We heard him!"

"It was so scary!"

"He was so scary!"

"It was like a witch's cackle!"

"It was horrible! Horrible!" They all called out simultaneously.

The huffy little fox wiggled free from their grasp and extended his paws out so they would give him some space. "Ladies! Ladies! One at a time! One at a time!"

Monsieur LeRoe and the others arrived just as Finnick managed to get the girls off him. "We heard screaming. What happened?" Monsieur LeRoe asked them.

"It was him!" Jamie spoke. "The Phantom of the Opera!"

"Come again?" asked Comte Savage.

"The Phantom, Monsieur!" repeated the frightened rabbit on the verge of tears.

Monsieur LoRoe rubbed at his temples in frustration. "Ugh, of course it's him. Why do I even bother asking at this point?"

"Monsieur LeRoe!" called the voice of a stern female. It was the voice of Madame Ciel Winter, Skye's mother and the Ballet Director of L'Opéra Populaire. "May I ask what is going on and why my entire ballerina troupe is screaming their heads off?"

"Oh Madame Winter, is it really any surprise anymore? It's just _him_ again," replied Monsieur LeRoe, practically groaning in frustration.

"Of course it was. I suppose it is a stupid question to have asked," the middle aged vixen agreed. "Though, I'm certain that it was equally stupid for both my daughter and my ballet troupe to have tempted this so called spectre if it had anything to do with those candles I encountered backstage."

The collective of ballerinas all lowered their heads in shame.

"Quite," agreed Monsieur LeRoe, "Oh! Gentlemammals, allow me to introduce you to our Ballet Director, Madame Ciel Winter. Madame Winter, allow me to introduce to you L'Opéra Populaire's new owners, Comte Norman Savage and-"

"I am quite familiar with Comte Norman Savage," interrupted the elder vixen.

"Madame _Ciel _Winter? Is that really you?" asked the hare, once he took a good look at the vixen. He smiled, "Wonderful to see you've moved up in the world after having worked at that dreadful circus."

"Indeed. Comte Savage, I do believe you remember my daughter, Skye?"

Skye curtsied to the hare, somewhat shyly.

"Ah yes, I remember you. You were my son Jack's old playmate, weren't you?"

Though she tried desperately to hide it, Skye blushed as she nodded - memories of her dear old friend and crush running through her head. "Yes. Yes that's right Monsieur."

"Wonderful to see that you are part of our illustrious ballet troupe here at L'Opéra Populaire."

"Would you gentlemammals care for a demonstration of our ballet troupe's dancing abilities?" asked Madame Winter.

"Ooh! That would be so much fun!" Clawhauser chirped with enthusiasm.

"As wonderful as that would be, I'm afraid we have a few little details we must go over once more with Monsieur LeRoe before we can enjoy the beautiful spectacle that is our ballet troupe," Comte Savage answered on behalf of the other mammals.

"Yes," Doug nodded, agreeing with the hare. "Namely a particular entity we were not aware of when this purchase was made," he added with a glare to Monsieur LeRoe, who awkwardly cleared his throat.

Monsieur Bogo nodded in agreement with Doug's statement.

"Aw," Clawhauser uttered in disappointment.

"If you would please excuse us ladies," Comte Savage bowed to the girls and followed the others to Monsieur LeRoe's office at the Opera house.

The ballerinas gathered together to comfort Jamie who was still crying and shivering from their Phantom scare.

Madame Winter thumped her ballet cane to the ground, garnering her ballet troupe's attention. "Ladies! Enough crying. We have rehearsal to tend to. So I suggest you clear your minds of this nonsense. I will give you only five minutes to gather yourselves and not a minute more."

Hearing that she had some time, Skye took advantage and rushed over to Comte Savage before he had a chance to leave her sight. "Comte Savage!"

The striped hare turned to her, "Ah, hello again my dear."

"Comte Savage, I just wanted to ask if you truly are now one of the new owners of L'Opéra Populaire?"

"Why yes I am. You know me, I'm quite fond of Opera," he chuckled in a friendly manner, causing Skye to also chuckle along with him. "Though of course when I bought this Opera house, I never expected to hear that a so called 'Phantom' haunted its halls."

"I know what you mean. I don't think any of us expected that," said Skye.

"You seem like a rationale girl, have you ever actually seen this Phantom? Or do you think it's someone pulling some ridiculous prank on everyone?" asked the hare of the young vixen.

"Well, we heard a haunting laugh that scared us. That's why we all ran off screaming. But, perhaps you're right. After all we didn't actually see who it was who was laughing. And to tell the truth, some of the fly workers have pretended to be him in the past. So it's a little hard to tell really."

"I suspected as much," said the hare, more convinced that the whole Phantom story is just one big elaborate hoax. "Thank you my dear, you've given me enough reason to stand by my own judgement on this matter. After all, a _Phantom_? Pfft! Preposterous!"

"Despite some things I've heard, I couldn't agree more with you sir," said Skye, agreeing with the hare.

The hare smirked, "I can see why Jack was quite fond of you, my dear."

Skye blushed and smiled wide, "He was?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, he'd always talk about how wonderful a friend you were and will always be to him."

Skye felt her heart drop, once he mentioned the word 'friend'. "Oh, yes of course," she said with a friendly, yet weak smile. "H-How is Jack? If I may ask?"

"Oh he's doing fine. Just finishing up his studies. He says he will be coming back to Zootopia in about six months when he's done with his education."

"He is?!" Skye squeaked with giddy excitement. Though upon seeing the hare be taken aback at her eagerness and given the stares her fellow ballerinas were giving her, she cleared her throat and composed herself. "Th-That's...good to hear," she said with a calm smile.

"Yes. Oh! That reminds me, has Judith arrived yet? Her brother James sent me a telegram that said she was coming back here to Zootopia to jump start her career at the Opera. She was quite a talented singer from what I remember."

"She was, but I'm afraid she's not coming back to become a singer. She's joining our ballet troupe."

"What?!" the hare spat, "That's impossible! She loved singing. Why would she not want to come join the Opera as a singer?!"

"I don't know, she made no mention of it in the letter she sent mother and I," Skye responded.

"Hm, strange. Well regardless, I hope she ends up changing her mind in the long run. I'd really love to hear her sing when I return to Zootopia in six months."

"Six months?" asked the vixen, "What do you mean?"

"I have business to tend to back home before I, well move back home to Zootopia," he chuckled good heartedly, "Moving arrangements, business affairs, financial transfers, that sort of thing. If I am to run this Opera house, then I must prepare for life back here you see."

"Yes, I understand," Skye nodded.

"Comte Savage!" Monsieur LeRoe called, popping his head out of his office, "Will you be joining us?"

"Yes, be there in half a tick!" he replied back to the buck. He turned back to the vixen, "Well then my dear, it's been a pleasure speaking to you again. I hope the next time I return here I'll get to see both you and Judith perform. Truly a shame though that Judith won't sing," the hare shook his head in disappointment. "I was greatly hoping that the next time I saw my future daughter-in-law, she would be up stage singing her beautiful heart out. My son is still quite fond of her you know."

"Oh, is that so?" Skye said, her voice weak as she forced a smile on her face.

"Yes, I believe he's loved her ever since they were children." The hare sighed contently and with pride, "Yes sir, I don't doubt in the least that when he gets back he's going to ask her to marry him, mark my words."

Skye said nothing, she merely forced a smile that hid the pain of her ripping heart.

"And who knows," the hare continued, "Perhaps by this time next year, I'll be expecting grandkits already," he chuckled, giddy with pride, "Yes, I couldn't ask for a better daughter-in-law. I hope he gets to propose soon, otherwise someone else might sweep her off her feet under my son's nose if he's not careful." The hare laughed boisterously while Skye just forced another smile and light chuckle. "I only tease. I don't think there's any other male that Judith could ever love more than my son. After all, what female in the right mind could ever resist my son's charms?"

"Yes, what female?" Skye repeated in a dull tone.

"Well, you take care my dear. I'll be sure to tell my son that you said 'hello'," Comte Savage said with a smile and a paw on her shoulder.

"Yes, thank you," she said with a small smile, "You take care too Comte Savage."

Comte Savage nodded and left, heading inside Monsieur LeRoe's office.

Once he was gone, Skye lowered her head and hugged her arms in a very insecure manner. A sad heartbroken frown overwhelmed her face.

Madame Winter kept her eyes on her daughter behind a curtain, having overheard the entire conversation. The normally stoic and uncaring elder vixen sighed quietly in disappointment, feeling for her daughter. For she knew all too well how much her daughter still loved the young Vicomte Jack Savage.

.

In Monsieur LeRoe's office…

"Monsieur LeRoe!" shouted Doug, "When my client decided to buy L'Opéra Populaire, you never mentioned anything about a Phantom haunting its walls! Now that sounds like something you should have told us from the very beginning!"

"Monsieur Ramses, I understand that both you and Comte Savage are upset about this. And believe me, I deeply apologize for withholding such an important detail, but I desperately needed to sell this Opera house. I can't bear to deal with this Phantom anymore! Perhaps you will be able to deal better with him than I ever could."

"Monsieur LeRoe," spoke Monsieur Bogo, "The point of the matter here is that you lied to our clients. And had them sign a legal document without informing them about everything they needed to know about this Opera house. If they wish, they very well could place a lawsuit against you." Monsieur Bogo turned to his client, "Comte Savage? What do you have to say regarding this matter? Do you wish to press charges?"

Comte Savage looked to the three arguing mammals, then placed a pensive paw to his chin. "Though I admit that I'm not happy with Monsieur LeRoe's decision to withhold information from us, I must admit that I do not wish to press charges nor appeal my purchase."

"But Comte Savage," argued Doug to the hare, "Are you not offended by Monsieur LeRoe's actions?"

"I am, but I refuse to allow a so called entity to ruin my purchase."

Monsieur LeRoe sighed in relief, though his conscious soon began to break through. He admired the hare's bravery but also feared that his foolishness and skeptic behavior would immediately make him a target for the Phantom's more _violent_ nature..

Though he did not wish to nullify the purchase, he soon began to think that perhaps he was in the wrong for not telling them about the spiteful Phantom prior to their purchase. He let out a sigh heavy with guilt, "No Comte Savage, I'm afraid they're right. Please forgive me. I allowed my desperation - and my doctor's orders - to get the best of me. I'd like to avoid a lawsuit as much as I can, so if you wish to have your purchase refunded, then I will make it so."

"That sounds like quite the generous offer, but I'm afraid I won't be taking it. At least not until you answer a few questions for me first," said the hare.

"Questions?" repeated the buck deer.

"Yes, about the Phantom," said Comte Savage, "Now, I am not one to believe in any of this superstitious nonsense. And I believe that is a feeling that even some of your own workers share. I had quite an interesting conversation with Madame Winter's daughter just a moment ago. She told me that she and the other girls heard a frightening laugh that scared them out of their wits, but see the strange part was that despite all that, she herself is still not fully convinced that there is a Phantom. She also told me that there have been times that the Phantom turned out to be your very workers playing pranks in the Phantom's name. So my question to you is, is there _really_ a Phantom? Or this just one large elaborate prank concocted by one or several of your employees?"

"Before I answer your question," started the roe deer, "Did Mademoiselle Skye happen to mention what happened to those mammals _after_ they pretended to be the Phantom?"

"No, I believe she made no mention of that," answered the hare.

"They all quit. Do you know why?"

"Why?" asked a curious Clawhauser in place of the hare.

"Because they were all either threatened or had some sort of _incident_ happen to them," replied Monsieur LeRoe.

Clawhauser gasped, covering his mouth with his paws on edge, "What kind of incidents?"

"Thankfully nothing that resulted in any fatalities, but they were still violent acts. One of my set workers had a very heavy sandbag land on his foot and break it after he dressed up as the Phantom and jumped out of the shadows with a hideous monster mask on. He frightened my ballerinas and crew half to death."

"Hold on a moment," Monsieur Bogo interjected, "Dressed as the Phantom? So you know what he looks like?"

"No, I'm afraid no one has ever really gotten a good look at him. It's only through shadows or quick peeks that anyone's seen him. All we know from these brief encounters is that he's male, very likely wears a tuxedo or frac, and that he's a small mammal. Possibly a red fox or a red panda based on the descriptions I've been given by those who were attacked by him."

"A fox?!" exclaimed Comte Savage. "Not to be stereotypical, but can't you assume you have your answer right there? Foxes are excellent tricksters! This is clearly one large hoax concocted by this no good fox of mystery. He may even be one of your own workers for all you know."

"Doubtful," replied LeRoe, "I only have two male red foxes in my employ and I highly doubt it's either one of them. One of them is a rather hefty fellow and everyone claims the Phantom has a much thinner frame. And the other one just started working for me about two months ago and these attacks have been going on for at least the past ten years."

"Ten years?!" exclaimed both Comte Savage and Doug in unison.

"Well no actually, the Phantom's mysterious occurrences began about ten years ago, but the bulk of threats and attacks didn't officially begin until about eight years ago," corrected the roe deer.

"Still my dear buck, why didn't you ever go to the police regarding this fiend?" asked the shocked Comte Savage.

"I did. But I must say it's not an easy thing to report a _ghost_ to the local authorities," replied LeRoe. "Most of them laughed at me, but I at least managed to convince two officers to investigate."

"Did they find anything?" Clawhauser asked on edge.

"No, that's the strange part. They searched every inch of this place and found absolutely nothing. Not a trace. Not a single sign of intrusion. Nothing."

"Maybe it _is_ a ghost then!" cried Clawhauser.

"Clawhauser! Honestly, that is ridiculous!" retorted Monsieur Bogo.

"No, I wouldn't dismiss that theory," said Monsieur LeRoe, "I know many of my workers have come to believe that the Phantom truly is a ghost."

"But that's absurd!" claimed Comte Savage, "Ghosts are nothing more than a fantasy. A myth. You can't tell me that you honestly believe that."

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Comte Savage," answered the buck deer. "So to answer your question from earlier about whether or not there really is a Phantom, I honestly don't know. Or rather I don't know whether or not to believe if this Phantom is a living being or an actual paranormal entity that haunts my Opera house. Some of the witnesses go as far to say that he can disappear and reappear as he wishes."

"Disappear?!" asked the hare in disbelief.

The deer nodded, "When it comes to the ghost rumor, most mammals believe it's either the ghost of Jonathan Wilde or that of a red panda named Fang Pan-Du, who unfortunately died during L'Opéra Populaire's construction. He had come to work drunk you see, and he fell while working on the roof's construction."

"Poor thing," sympathized Clawhauser.

"A pity, but perhaps deserving for coming to work in such a state," commented Monsieur Bogo, rather cold heartedly.

"Monsieur Bogo!" cried Clawhauser, "That's disrespectful." The buffalo just shrugged in response.

"From what I heard, Monsieur Pan-Du had his share of demons. He was in a rather depressive state in his life when he died. His wife had left him and he was heavily in debt due to gambling problems."

"He sounds like someone who would have plenty of reason to be angry," said Bogo.

"Yes," agreed LeRoe, "Though despite all that, recent rumors have favored Jonathan Wilde to be the Phantom."

"Why Jonathan Wilde?" asked Comte Savage.

"Well, two of the more violent incidents involved Jonathan Wilde's wife, Amelia Wilde. See a former fly worker of mine named Miles, who also happened to be a red fox, said some rather unsavory things regarding Madame Wilde."

"What kind of unsavory things?" asked the striped hare.

Monsieur LeRoe appeared to hesitate for a moment before he spoke, "He said that had it only been Monsieur Wilde who died in the fire, then he would've sought after Amelia Wilde and...well...he made this gesture." Monsieur LeRoe stood from his seat and began to awkwardly hump the air.

"My word!" exclaimed Comte Savage, greatly offended himself by the vulgar gesture.

"I couldn't agree more with you, sir," agreed an equally disgusted Bogo with the hare.

"It turned out that the Phantom did not take that lightly. That very same day, my worker broke both his legs and an arm as he was pushed off from the catwalk by someone who was there one moment and gone the next. From what he remembered seeing, he claimed to have briefly glimpsed at a red furred mammal in a suit. Though he did not see his face."

"Goodness," breathed Clawhauser.

"What of the second incident?" asked Comte Savage, "Did it also involve Amelia Wilde?"

"Yes, which again supports that if it is a ghost, then it may indeed be the ghost of Jonathan Wilde protecting his wife's honor."

"What happened this time?" asked Doug, "Was it another vulgar display?"

"Yes, though this time I think it was the result of a bet. A pig set worker named Harold claimed that he could prove that what happened to Miles was mere coincidence and thought that the best way to prove this was by further angering the Phantom. Even more so than Miles did. He acted out some things, far worse than what Miles did and…" Monsieur LeRoe cleared his throat, "Even acted out Amelia Wilde's vocal enthusiasm for what he would do to her. Needless to say that despite his confidence that nothing would happen to him, a large crescent moon that we had hanging, fell on him once he stepped below it."

Clawhauser covered his mouth with his paws in horror, while the other mammals' jaws dropped in shock.

"Thankfully the moon was made of plywood so he was not seriously injured. Though it did break his collarbone. We of course investigated the incident and hoped that the moon merely came loose on its own, but that was not the case. None of my workers had been up there when the incident happened but it was all too clear that the rope holding the moon had been deliberately cut."

"And you believe it was the Phantom?" asked Comte Savage.

Monsieur Le Roe shrugged. "I don't know who or what else could have committed these acts of violence."

Comte Savage sighed in thought. Silence filled the room as the rest of the mammals took all of the information they were given into consideration.

"Monsieur LeRoe, though all that you've told me does bring much concern, I think I will remain with my purchase," said the decided hare.

"You will?" asked Monsieur LeRoe, Monsieur Bogo, and Clawhauser simultaneously.

"Absolutely," replied the determined hare. "I and my co-buyer purchased L'Opéra Populaire fair and square and we're not about to let some Phantom frighten us away from _our_ Opera house. Are we Monsieur Ramses?"

"Well actually," began the ram, "I'm not so sure how my client will react to this once she hears of the Phantom. Personally if this were my call to make, I'd take you up on your offer for a refund. But I'm afraid I have to discuss this with her first before I give you a definite answer."

"Monsieur Ramses, honestly. You can't tell me that you are actually afraid of this Phantom?"

"And you're not?" asked the buck deer of the hare.

Comta Savage scoffed, "Of course not. Supernatural or not, to me it seems that so long as I make no mention of Amelia Wilde nor do anything else to provoke him then I should be alright. Wouldn't you agree?"

Monsieur LeRoe sighed heavily, "Comte Savage, there is nothing I want more in this world than to rid myself of this opera house. But at the risk of scaring you off and condemning myself to be forever tied to this accursed place until the day I die, I must ask you to reconsider. I'm in no immediate danger considering that I follow all of the Phantom's orders, but believe me when I say that I am legitimately concerned for your safety if you think you can run this place without obeying his orders."

"Orders?!" spat the hare. "One moment you make it seem like he's one big nuisance and now you're telling me that he gives you orders!"

"Sadly, yes. I'm afraid that I haven't run my own Opera house in years." The roe deer opened a drawer from his desk. He pulled out a large clear bag full of black bordered envelopes and slammed it on the table for all to see, "All of these are letters from the Phantom. In them he tells me what he wants me to do to 'improve' the Opera House, as he puts it."

"All of these are from the Phantom?!" exclaimed a slack jawed Comte Savage as he dug into the bag and pulled out several letters from the Phantom. The others did the same.

"Yes," answered Monsieur LeRoe, "Though these are just from this past month."

Doug watched him in disbelief. "That's it. Monsieur LeRoe, despite not yet having spoken with my client, I will take that offer for a refund on her beha-"

"Just one moment Monsieur Ramses," interrupted the hare. "You will do no such thing."

"I don't believe that's up to you to decide Comte Savage," replied the ram.

"I believe it is," retorted the hare, "This is a joint purchase and I refuse to sell. At least not before giving this Phantom a fair fight."

"Comte Savage…" began the buck deer.

"Oh no need to worry Monsieur LeRoe, I'm no fool. I won't defy the Phantom. I won't even be here for the first six months of ownership. Nor will your client Monsieur Ramses. All I ask is for all of you to give me some time. Upon my return, my son should have graduated from his law enforcement studies. Surely if there is someone who will be able to assist me in getting to the bottom of this Phantom mystery it is him. And I trust that you can do your own investigating as well Monsieur Bogo. If I remember correctly, you used to be in law enforcement yourself as well, weren't you?"

"Yes, though I unfortunately had to leave it due to an injury," answered the buffalo. "And here I thought taking over my late father's notary office would be less stressful. Now I'm suddenly thrown back into police work. Chasing after a ghost no less," he scoffed.

"Yes, but it will all be worth it I promise you," said Comte Savage. He turned to the ram, "Monsieur Ramses, please give me seven to eight months. If our efforts to finally catch or confront the Phantom fail, then you can sell. Does that sound fair?"

The ram thought for a moment, then sighed, "Very well then. Eight months. If this Phantom is not caught by then, then we will sell." He turned to the deer, "Monsieur LeRoe, would you mind adding that to our contract? If Comte Savage is unsuccessful, then full ownership of L'Opéra Populaire shall go to him."

"Yes, of course," said the deer as he unraveled the deed to the property once more to make the addition.

Comte Savage meanwhile, turned to his notaries. "Monsieur Bogo, Monsieur Clawhauser, I will be counting on you two to be my eyes and ears while I'm gone for these six months. Please inform me of anything you may discover about the Phantom. I wish to capture this fiend upon my return and I'll need every bit of information that you can gather to do so."

"You can count on us sir. I will use every ounce of knowledge from my days as a lieutenant in the police force to make that possible," saluted the buffalo.

"U-Um...Monsieur Bogo?" asked a meek Clawhauser, "Since you will be staying here in Comte Savage's place, would it be alright if I return to the office? You know, somebody has to keep an eye on the rest of our clients and…"

"You're not going anywhere Clawhauser! You're staying here with me!" ordered the buffalo of the whimpering cheetah. "Besides, my cousin already volunteered to keep watch of the office while we're gone."

"Excellent, good to know you've thought ahead, Monsieur Bogo," said the hare.

"Yes, excellent," said Monsieur LeRoe as he wrote, "Let's just hope the Phantom hasn't overheard your plans. He has a tendency to eavesdrop and you wouldn't want your notaries to pay the price in your stead."

Comte Savage scoffed, "I'm certain Monsieur Bogo will be ready for anything this Phantom tries to pull on him, isn't that right Monsieur?"

"Absolutely," replied the cape buffalo with a confident nod.

"Very well then," shrugged the buck deer, "The best of luck to you all. I hope you have a better time dealing with this Phantom than I ever did. Oh and do keep in mind gentlemammals, that I plan to leave the moment I finish writing this last minute addition to the deed, so if you have any further questions regarding the Phantom or of the opera house in general, please be sure to ask Madame Winter. She's been here for about as long as I have and she's also been my trusted liaison between the Phantom."

"Thank you for letting us know Monsieur LeRoe," said Bogo while Clawhauser just moaned under his breath.

"Why did I agree to this?"

Comte Savage meanwhile, observed one of the black bordered envelopes that he took from the bag. In his mind, he played over all of the roe deer's warnings. Warnings, that suddenly made him feel insecure. What if the Phantom had been listening in on his plans? And if so, when would he receive his first threatening letter? Comte Savage began to feel a twinge of fear building deep inside him, until he shook his head, quickly discarding his insecurities. He looked at the envelope once more, and unraveled it to read it -

'_You have disappointed me once again Monsieur LeRoe. Your operatic ear seems to be lacking. I ask you to once again review your choice of back-up singers or I shall once again review my choice of not dropping a chandelier on your head._

_The Phantom'_

Comte Savage scoffed, "Poppycock."

.

On stage…

Madame Winter paced before her ballerinas, keeping an eye on their footwork. She seemed pleased with them as the orchestra played a ballet segment from Wolfgang Amadeus Wolfzart's _The Marriage of Figaro_.

Once the music came to an end, the girls finished their dance. Madame Winter clapped, "Bravo girls. That was wonderful, though some of you still need some work. Jamie?"

The white rabbit perked her ears. "You were a little sluggish today. Let's hope that is not an issue for tomorrow night's performance."

"N-No ma'am," replied the meek rabbit.

"Skye, the same goes for you. Your footwork is excellent, but you need more energy. See to it that you fix that by tomorrow night."

"Yes mother," replied Skye with a fragile constitution.

"As for the rest of you, that will be all for today. You are dismissed," the girls relaxed and wandered off. Skye followed after her fellow ballerinas.

"Skye," said her mother. The young vixen turned to her.

"Yes mother?" she asked, a little intimidated as she believed her mother would scold her once again for her unenthusiastic performance. Her mother could be a bit scary with her stern and emotionally absent demeanor.

"You appear disturbed child. Is something bothering you?" asked the elder vixen - fully aware of what it is that's bothering her daughter, but curious nonetheless to hear her speak of it.

Though Madame Winter had never been one to openly express her emotions, she still cared very deeply for her children's...er..._child_'s happiness and wellbeing. And at this very moment her child was suffering and needed some sort of an _attempt _at maternal comfort.

Skye hesitated to answer, embarrassed to admit to her dismissive mother that she was heartbroken to hear that her childhood crush favored her best friend over her. What was she? Twelve? How childish to be upset over something so silly. But still, how could she ignore her feelings for someone she loves? It hurt.

"Uh, bothering me? N-Nothing's bothering me mother," replied the nervous vixen who was just as closed about her emotions as her mother. "I guess I'm just a little bit rattled about the whole Phantom scare."

"The Phantom? Strange, his presence has never frightened you this much before. Are you certain that is all that's bothering you?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said as she cleared her throat.

Madame Winter stared at her with an unconvinced gaze, but decided not to pry any further into her daughter's feelings. "Very well, if there is nothing wrong then I hope you haven't forgotten that your dear friend Judith will be arriving today."

"Yes, mother I know," replied the younger vixen with a smile and a nod.

"Have you prepared a room for her yet?"

"Yeah, May and I set it all up for her yesterday."

"Very good," replied the elder vixen. "Go get dressed and see to it that you and the other girls give her a warm welcome. Her brother James mentioned in his letter that she has been having a difficult time dealing with her father's death, so please try to make her feel at home."

"Of course mother," declared the young vixen, feeling sorry to hear that her childhood friend has been going through a difficult time in her life, "Judy's my best friend! I'll do anything to make her happy." Skye gave a sincere smile as her mother nodded, happy to hear that she could rely on her daughter despite her broken heart.

Skye turned to leave, but her mother stopped her once more. "Oh and one more thing, don't mention the Phantom to Judith, at least not yet. And be mindful that none of the other girls say anything either. I just don't think it would be proper for Judith to be hearing any ghost stories from those ridiculous girls at the moment. Not when her father's death is still so fresh in her mind."

"Yes mother, I completely understand. I'll be sure to keep them in line when she gets here," said the young vixen before she left toward the dressing rooms.

Madame Winter gave her a nod and went her own way. She headed deep into the backstage area, then went down, down, further down than most mammals dared to tread in L'Opéra Populaire. She continued down until she reached the second underground cellar where old set pieces were stored. She kept her gaze low in thought until she suddenly stopped with a small gasp. The vixen ended her train of thought when she spotted someone hidden in the shadows and behind some of the larger set pieces. "Oh, it's you," she said to the mysterious mammal - to the _Phantom_ himself.

The Phantom said nothing.

Madame Winter huffed, "Nothing to say as usual I see. Why am I not surprised?"

The Phantom had no retort to her snarky remark. All he did was reach into the lapel of his coat and pulled out a black bordered envelope. He tossed it down by her feet.

Madame Winter glanced down at the letter, then back at him. She exhaled somewhat annoyed by the fact that he didn't just hand it to her - did he have to be so rude as to toss it down at her feet? Regardless, she reached down to pick it up and opened it.

It read:

'_My theater's new owners arrived today. The fools believe that they can capture me. I trust that you won't tell them anything that will bring them any closer to accomplishing that? Know that if you ever do, those idiots won't be the only ones suffering my wrath._

_Enforce my rules unto them. Or __**I will**__._

_The Phantom'_

Madame Winter scoffed, not at all fazed by the threat made unto her within the letter. To her, this type of back and forth was commonplace, "Yes, yes I know the rules as well as our compromise. You can trust that I will let them know of your rules and that I will say nothing that will risk either mine or my child's well being. But of course, now that you are here, I must ask what it is you were thinking when you frightened my daughter and my ballerinas out of their wits earlier this morning? I thought that we had an agreement that in return for my services, you would not harm my daughter, myself or my girls."

The Phantom once again said nothing in response, he merely pulled out another black bordered envelope and tossed it at Madame Winter's feet. The vixen picked it up and opened it. "I see you were prepared for this conversation," she said surprised at the letter's contents. The letter read:

'_I promised to never physically harm your daughter and ballerinas. I never promised that I wouldn't scare them if they ever annoyed me.'_

Madame Winter folded up the letter again, "Be that as it may, I hope that you can at the very least respect my plea as a mother to leave my daughter and the rest of my ballerinas alone. I have a new girl coming in today and both she and my daughter are going through a very difficult time. So I ask you to please let them be. At least just for tonight. And if any of my girls should annoy you, then I will deal with them myself."

As expected, the Phantom said nothing. All he did was release a snort through his nostrils and turned to leave - disappearing into the shadows.

Madame Winter sighed and shook her head in disappointment at his action, uncertain if his small gesture was an indication of him completely ignoring her request or if he was actually going to comply, albeit hesitantly. "In all these years, I truly believed that freedom would've been enough to bring peace to your troubled soul. But I suppose that was too naive a thought," said the vixen with another disappointed shake of her head, "It seems that at this rate, nothing will ever be able to thaw that cold heart of yours."

.

Out on the city streets of Zootopia, a carriage made its way toward L'Opéra Populaire. Within the carriage, rode a beautiful, twenty year old gray furred rabbit with amethyst colored eyes - this was Judith Hopps, the bunny who appeared to be the topic of interest to many at L'Opéra Populaire.

She was dressed in a vibrant yet modest lavender dress and matching hat with a decorative pink feather. On the outside looking in, it made her look so elegant and bright, but internally she was anything but. For deep down she had nothing but a dim sadness dwelling in her melancholy heart - a sadness which stemmed from the recent loss of her father. Her musical mentor and partner.

She stared out the open window to the beautiful city around her. Much of it had changed since she moved away, but much of it still remained as it was since her childhood.

As she stared out, her driver made a stop at an intersection that was quite familiar to her.

At the corner to her right was Jumbeaux's Cafe, an ice cream shop where her father once took her to buy a much needed ice cream cone after she had scraped her knee at her favorite playground. It hadn't changed a bit since her youth. It was enough to spark even the smallest semblance of a smile upon her face.

She kept her eyes glued to it just as a father skunk and his young daughter stepped out of it, each enjoying a rather large ice cream cone. Though her physical eyes saw the skunk pair, in her mind she saw them suddenly morph into her and her father, laughing and smiling happily as they did once so long ago. Soon after, Judy's smile faded and her vibrant jewel like amethyst eyes dimmed back to the opaque, near lifeless color they had been since the day her father died.

When her driver, a horse named Bernie, continued on his way with the carriage, Judy couldn't help but keep staring back at the slowly disappearing ice cream shop. Desperate to hold on to days gone by.

"Are you holding up alright back there, Mademoiselle Hopps?" asked her driver.

"Huh?" the bunny squeaked as he took her from her thoughts.

"I asked if you're alright miss," repeated the horse, "You seem rather quiet back there,"

"Oh, yes. I'm alright," she replied with a forced smile, "I guess I'm just a little distracted. It's been years since I've been back to Zootopia and I guess it's just a lot to take in."

"I understand what you mean miss," replied the horse in casual conversation, "It can be difficult to become accustomed to a new place, even if it is a place you've been to before. But at least you will be with close friends. Your brother says that Madame Winter and her daughter will be taking you in, is that right?"

"That's right," Judy answered with a polite smile.

"That's wonderful to hear mademoiselle! A wonderful singer like you getting such an opportunity to live and perform at the illustrious L'Opéra Populaire! That must be so exciting!" said the cheerful horse.

"Yeah...exciting," replied Judy with a weak smile which quickly dipped into a frown. At any other point in her life, she would have agreed wholeheartedly with the horse. She loved music! And she loved to sing! And performing at L'Opéra Populaire had always been a dream of hers! But it was a dream she shared with her father. One where in which she would sing up on stage and he would play his violin for her down in the orchestra pit. But now that he was gone...

Things just...haven't felt the same. It was as if her love of music died alongside her father. She simply couldn't bring herself to sing anymore. Not without her father's beautiful violin music there to accompany her while she sang. It was a terrible feeling for a passionate music lover like her.

As the carriage continued to move, bringing her closer and closer to her destination, she reached into her purse and pulled out an old photo of herself, her family and the Winters. They were all huddled together and smiling. Her eyes scanned the photo for a moment, until her gaze focused on her father. She ran a thumb over her father's smiling face, then moved her gaze toward her brother James. As she stared at the image of her older brother, she began to hear his voice echoing in her ears from the day she left home...

.

"I know this is difficult for you Judy, but it's what's best for you," said her brother's voice as they stood outside of his large bunny shaped home.

It was just the two of them outside as James wished to speak privately with his clearly depressed sister. Fortunately enough for him, she had already said good-bye to the rest of their family inside, so there was no worry that their younger siblings would interrupt the serious talk they had to have.

"I know," Judy replied, obedient but unconvinced by her older brother's words. She stood with a low dangling head and with one of her heavy travel bags in her paws. Behind her, the carriage that was to take her back home to Zootopia awaited for her to board.

James Hopps - the eldest Hopps child, who bore an almost identical physical resemblance to his younger sister with the only exception being that James had brown eyes like their father - noticed her skeptical demeanor. He frowned and softened his words towards her, placing a paw at her shoulder, "Judy, father's death has been difficult on all of us. But we've gone through this before with mother. I know you were still fairly young when it happened, but I'm sure you remember how difficult it was for father when she died. He was probably more devastated than you are now. He wouldn't even eat."

"Yeah, I remember that," Judy acknowledged.

"Remember how you wouldn't stop trying to force feed him because he was getting so thin?"

Judy nodded.

"That's because you are a _tryer_. You're not a quitter. You've never given up on anything you've set your mind to. And you never give up on others. Just like you never gave up on father when he needed you most."

Judy said nothing, but did look up at him. Perhaps a semblance of her optimistic self coming back? No, maybe not. She immediately brought her head back down. Her brother was right. She normally had always been a positive and hopeful girl that always looked at the glass half full, but...that just wasn't her anymore.

"As your oldest brother, it is now my duty to look after you and the rest of our 274 siblings. Which is no easy feat considering that my wife and I already have fifty-three of our own." James gently flicked her chin with his index finger, "I just want what's best for you because that's what father would've wanted. You can't give up on your dream of being a world renowned opera singer at L'Opéra Populaire just because father isn't here anymore."

"I know James, but…" Judy began, still doubtful of herself and everything.

"No buts. You promised father on his deathbed that you'd keep singing and make it to L'Opéra Populaire on his behalf. And if Madame Winter managed to gain approval to bring you in, then take advantage of that opportunity. It's okay if you want to take it slow. That's actually why I asked her to at the very least bring you in as a ballet dancer. After that, if you feel comfortable enough, perhaps you could one day return to your true love of singing."

"Yeah, maybe," Judy replied, skeptical that that would ever be the case.

"Maybe? Don't tell me you've become so ungrateful that you won't even try," James answered, growing a bit agitated by her lack of confidence.

"I didn't say that! What I…" Judy sighed, struggling to maintain her feelings in check, "What I meant was-I'm thankful. I'm thankful that you sought out this opportunity for me. And I'm thankful to you for not giving up on me...but..." Judy's voice trembled a bit.

"But what?"

As strong as Judy tried to be, she couldn't take it any more and the tears of insecurity and depression began to swell at her eyes. "I don't think I'm strong enough…I just can't…" her voice broke as a tear managed to escape.

James quickly hugged his sister to comfort her. "There, there. I know it's difficult."

"I just miss him so much," she cried into his shoulder, "I want to be strong and keep my promise to father but I...I just don't feel like I can do this alone. I don't want to be alone right now! Can't I stay a little longer? I really want to be with family right now."

James sighed as he patted his sister's back. He wanted to give in and tell her to stay home, but he knew deep down that, that wouldn't help her. If he was to get his old sister back, then he couldn't let her make a habit of giving up or running away from her problems, because that just wasn't Judy.

He patted her back once more and pulled her away to speak face to face with her, "Who said you would be alone? You won't be alone. Skye will be there, as well as Madame Winter. And who knows? Perhaps you'll make new friends there."

Judy hiccuped and wiped her tears as her brother's words began to slowly reach her and put her at ease.

"Besides, I know for a fact that no matter what happens, you will not be alone," James continued.

"What do you mean?" Judy asked, wiping her face clean.

"Don't you remember father's promise to you before he died? He promised you, that to ensure that you will never be alone in your musical ventures, that he will send you the Angel of Music to watch over you and guide you in his stead."

Judy released a low stifled chuckle as she wiped at her remaining tears, "James, that's from that old children's fairy tale father used to read to us."

"So? It was father's last promise to you and you know how good he was at keeping promises," James said with a confident smile.

Though she still felt sad and uncertain about everything, Judy couldn't help but return her brother's smile. A bit of an unspoken hope had begun to return to her.

"Monsieur Hopps!" called Bernie, the carriage driver, "Might we be on our way, monsieur?"

"Yes, one moment," replied the rabbit to the horse driver. He turned his attention back to his sister, "I promise everything will be alright. I don't want to see you cry anymore," he said wiping away the last few remnants o f tears on her face. "Now will you please show me a semblance of my true little sister and just _try_?"

Judy sniffled and wiped at one final tear. She nodded with a smile, "Okay James, I'll try."

"There she is," James said as he opened his arms to bring her in for a hug. The two siblings hugged, "I want you to write me as soon as you get there, you hear me?"

"I will," Judy replied, maintaining her smile. She then turned to the carriage, staring at it for a moment. This was it. Her journey to a new life. Her journey to live out her musical career without her father there to join her or guide her…

Judy inhaled a deep breath and marched to the carriage. Bernie closed the door behind her and went back up front.

James went up to Judy at the carriage window. He extended his paw out to his sister who took it. "Good luck little sister."

Judy nodded as the carriage slowly began to move. They released one another's paws as they each waved good-bye. "Good-bye! Take care of everyone James!" Judy called out to him.

"I will! Take care! And may the Angel of Music watch over you!" he called out as Judy's carriage pulled further and further away. Judy took in his words and sat inside the carriage. The idea of an Angel of Music did seem silly to an extent, but maybe James and her father were right. Maybe she wouldn't be alone. Maybe she would have nothing to fear. Maybe, she would make her father proud. And maybe...just maybe...her Angel of Music would come to her and inspire her to sing again one day.

She pulled out the photo of her and everyone together as her mind returned back to the present moment…

.

In present time…

Judy continued to gaze at the photo in her paws. Her eyes wandered onto the image of a happy twelve year old Skye and her eleven year old self in ballerina tutus. Right beside them stood a younger Madame Winter.

The photo marked the last time Judy had ever seen her old friend before she and her family moved out of town. That was nine years ago. She wondered how her old best friend looked like now? Or if she would even recognize her?

The very thought intrigued her with enough curiosity that for the first time in weeks, she had actually looked forward to something. She smiled, genuinely happy. Maybe her brother was right. Maybe her coming here won't be so bad. At least she'll get to reconnect with old friends and finally be able to dance and perform on stage at the illustrious L'Opéra Populaire just like her father did years ago!

She glanced at the photo one more time with a smile and a growing sense of hope.

.

Meanwhile...

Below L'Opéra Populaire. Down, deep, deep, _deep_ down at its cellars - its _undiscovered_ and untouched fifth cellar - that lay five levels below ground, moving past forgotten underground torture chambers from Zootopia's Revolution of 1848, and past the dark underground waters of a long black lagoon…

There lay a lair…

A realm of darkness, a world of secrecy, a kingdom of music…

Home…

To none other than the ghostly figure, the mammal of mystery himself…

...The Phantom of the Opera...

Said figure tread through his dark somewhat foggy lair, elevating his long black cape with one arm over various lit candles, which served to light his way toward his home below the opera house. In the very same arm that he used to lift his cape, he also carried a lit lantern in his paw. Below his elevated cape, his long red, fluffy tail with a black tip swayed side to side with the momentum of each step.

He wandered further into his home, which was mostly dark as it was lit only by a series of decoratively placed candelabras. Though despite its somewhat grim appearance, it still had an air of hominess to it.

He had a large decorative bed, possibly stolen from a previous theater performance given how much it looked like a bed fit for an eighteenth century king. He also had a large mirror, which was cracked at the top half (where one would view their face). There were also several rooms divided by beautiful red velvet curtains, a dinner table and chairs (also stolen from a set piece), a large kingly throne, various other stolen props and treasures, and to top it all off, a large and beautiful black organ.

At the organ were musical sheets for an in progress musical play titled, _Don Juan Triumphant_ \- though given all the pen scratches and crinkled sheets on the ground, it was clear that it was anything but triumphant at the moment.

The mysterious mammal approached his dinner table, where a very familiar and peculiar object awaited him. The Phantom set his lantern down onto the table, where the object became visible in the lantern's light.

It was a small, somewhat beat up music box that had a little toy rabbit sitting on top of it. The little rabbit was dressed in Persian robes and had cymbals in his tiny paws.

The Phantom brought forth a black paw toward it and turned the lever at the side of the box. A precious little melody began to play and the tiny rabbit played his cymbals along with the music. As the box played, the Phantom brought forth his face from the shadows and into the light of the lantern.

Once his face came into view, it was clear that many of the rumors revolving around the Phantom were true. The Phantom _was_ a **red** **fox**. Not only that, but the rumors regarding his attire were also true, in that he wore a very formal black frac. He also bore a striking resemblance to the late Jonathan Wilde, but... something was off. For unlike Jonathan Wilde, he did not have blue eyes but green ones - _emerald_ green ones to be exact. There was also the matter that he had one very distinct and prominent feature that no one had ever mentioned before.

For upon his face, he wore a white mask that covered the right side of his face - including his snout and the corner of his mouth and lower jaw.

Of the Wilde family, there was only one member who had received horrific damage to the right side of his face that required it to be hidden from the rest of the world... and that was...Nick Wilde...

The Phantom was none other than Nick Wilde. The young fox that everyone had come to believe had died during Le Palais du Renard's fire twenty-two years ago.

The now fully grown, masked fox took a seat before the music box, taking a moment to simply listen and appreciate its beautiful music. He sat quietly as the gentle melody resonated all throughout the lonely lair.

Within Nick's eyes, it was difficult to tell what it was exactly that he felt towards the curious object. On the one paw, it was his most valuable treasure as it was the final gift he would ever receive from his parents - or from anyone for that matter. In that sense, it brought precious memories to him from when he last saw them alive. He remembered his father's final play brought to life by his mother's beautiful voice, he remembered when his parents had gifted him with the music box, and he remembered playing and singing beside his mother by the piano - smiling and laughing with her.

He was happy…

But then, on the other paw... his precious gift, also served as a tragic reminder of the horrible events that transpired immediately afterwards…

The masked fox's snout wrinkled in a sneer as he remembered Beau Bellwether and his three fellow rams and of how they so heartlessly murdered his parents, of how they mutilated his face, and of how his dying mother came to revile and reject him - her precious son, her handsome boy - reduced to nothing more but a hideous and disfigured monster!

Nick dug and clenched his claws against the surface of his table with anger, adding yet another set of claw marks to his already clawed table. No doubt from previous years when he had made it his birthday tradition to sit down and listen to his music box while simultaneously reminiscing on everything that happened on that fateful day.

And now...twenty-two years later today, marked yet another anniversary of that very day that he would never be able to forget.

He relaxed his grip as he continued to reminisce. His thoughts wandered back to the very moment just before the chandelier fell on him...

.

He recalled how he stood there as it quickly plummeted down toward him, all the while he stood there helpless and frightened beyond all measure.

But then...before he knew it, he suddenly felt a survival instinct kick in and every impulse within him screamed at him to _move_! Which he thankfully did. He jumped to the side before it was too late - the large chandelier just barely missed him by a hair.

Once the chandelier hit the ground, the floor around it cracked, forcing several planks to elevate toward the air. One of which pushed little Nick back, causing him to slide back down toward the open gap between the shattered planks and the chandelier.

The traumatized and mute kit could do nothing more but whimper as he held on for dear life, burying his tiny claws into the plank. He looked around him and saw that the fire was spreading past the stage and all around him. What was he to do now?!

It was then that he glanced down below the now open floor and into the dark abyss that lay below him.

Fortunately for him, as luck would have it, his fox night vision allowed him to see and realize that there was a storage room down below. He also managed to catch a quick glimpse of what appeared to be a high tower of stacked wooden crates reaching close to where he dangled. He heard the chandelier groan as its weight was beginning to bear down. It wouldn't be long now until what remained of it would fall in the rest of the way and possibly drag him down with it.

Without a moment to lose, the young kit flung himself over to one of the boxes. He barely managed to land on one of the top ones, but he thankfully did reach it. He had never been more thankful to have night vision as he was able to see himself the rest of the way down from the pile of boxes. Once on the ground, he spotted what appeared to be an old door that was labeled 'CONDEMNED' and 'OFF LIMITS'. He had no idea what the first word meant but he didn't have time to think about it. If it was a way out, then he would take it!

He stood on the tips of his toes and turned the knob as hard and wildly as he could, desperate to get it open, just as the chandelier groaned again. The small fox then began to ram the old door with his shoulder - cautious not to damage his music box underneath his arm. Fortunately enough for him, the old door's rusted hinges started coming loose. He gained some speed and rammed against it as hard as he could. The bottom hinge came loose and created a gap as the door twisted. It was a small gap, but perhaps big enough for him to crawl through.

The chandelier groaned again and started breaking through. Terrified, Nick crawled through. It was a tight fit but he managed to squeeze through. He entered a dark room with a long stairway leading down to further darkness. Not knowing where else to go, the young kit followed the mysterious stairway down to wherever it was that it lead to.

After quite some time, the kit reached a series of multiple dark corridors. Though he no longer felt the need to run away from the fire anymore, he still felt the need to keep moving forward - in case it followed him down there. He chose the middle corridor and walked through it. Cobwebs surrounded the black corridor, as well as the unpleasant smell of murky water. Sound wise, Nick could hear an occasional echoing drip of water, straight up ahead.

He trembled as he walked through the lonely corridor. He had no idea where he was going and his horribly burnt face was starting to sting again. He placed a gentle paw over it and hugged his music box with the other arm as he started to cry again. He wanted his mommy and daddy to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright.

He sobbed quietly the rest of the way, until he surfaced out from the corridor. It was still dark, but with his nightvision, he could see the sight before him clear as day. It was a large space with a huge gate which lead to another section of corridors. The little kit stood there, amazed at the sight. For though he was scared, something about this whole mysterious place, really spoke to him.

Why it even strangely felt like...home…

.

Nick's mind returned to the present day…

He sighed and looked around at his surroundings, taking in the dark realm that eventually became his home. He gazed back down to his music box just as it stopped playing.

He stretched a paw out to it, gently caressing a chipped area on it. Damaged, just like him.

Nick balled his fist and hissed quietly in anger as he stood in a huff. He headed to one of his many rooms covered by red velvet curtains.

In it, he had numerous books - some strewn all over the floor while others where kept neatly in bookshelves. On one of his walls, he had a couple of ad posters for a circus called 'CIRQUE DE FOULFELLOW'. One of the posters read, 'Come see _The Gorgeous Dancing Vixens!_ And our _Master of Mystery, Robin the Great!_' while the other poster read, 'Come see the _Monster Kit! _Only at our Freakshow!'_._

On the other wall just ahead of him, he had various old newspaper clippings about Beau Bellwether. They depicted places where he had been and events he had attended over the years - including the Wilde family's memorial service which was held right there where Le Palais du Renard's remains once stood. The hypocritical ram's 'saddened' face in the newspaper clipping filled Nick with an immeasurable rage. How dare he pretend to care, when he knew full well what he had done!

If there was ever one thing that the Phantom fox cursed himself over the years was that he couldn't go after the ram sooner in his youth. So many years lost! But he swore to himself that no matter what and no matter how long it took him, he would make that ram pay in _blood_ for what he had done to him and his parents!

Just below the newspaper clippings was a large table with a very rough, pawmade model of the city, along with a couple of detailed maps and a list of places (all of which were crossed out, save for the name of one place). They were all places where he had searched for Beau Bellwether, but ultimately could not find him.

The fox Phantom took a quill pen and angrily crossed off the remaining location on the list and etched a line over the same location on one of the maps. He brought the quill's feather to his mouth and nibbled on it in thought. After a moment, he circled a new location. That is where he will search next.

Right beside him by the edge of the table, was a carving knife - very likely the same one he had used to make the pawmade model of the city. He picked it up and observed it for a moment, before using it to stab an image of Beau Bellwether on the wall.

With that, he left the room, picking up a black fedora hat that hung on a coat rack on his way out. He approached the edge of his lair and climbed aboard a small black boat that rested at the shore. The Phantom fox hung a lantern at the front tip of the boat and then picked up a black colored oar to launch himself into the murky dark waters of the black lagoon. He sailed away, determined to search his newly marked location in hopes of finally finding his sworn enemy.

.

The carriage carrying Judy finally arrived outside of L'Opéra Populaire. "We're here Mademoiselle Hopps," Bernie announced.

Judy's eyes opened wide in wonder as she stepped out of the carriage before Bernie could even get the door open for her. She stared at the large opera house in awe. "Is this really L'Opéra Populaire? It looks more beautiful than I remember it!" Judy squeaked. A true smile plastering itself on her face at last.

"Yes, indeed it is," concurred the horse. "Would you like me to carry your luggage in for you, Miss Hopps?"

"Huh?" Judy turned to him, "Oh, no. That's alright. I think I can carry them myself. It's only two bags after all," Judy replied politely as she carried a bag in each paw.

"Are you sure?" asked the horse.

"Yes, thank you," she said as the horse shrugged. She continued to admire the building's gorgeous architecture as Bernie saddled up to leave.

"Would you like me to escort you in before I leave, mademoiselle?"

"No, that's okay. I think I'm good Bernie. Thanks for everything and please give my family my warm regards when you see them," she said with an unwavering smile.

"My pleasure Miss Hopps. And believe me, I'll be sure to let your brother know that you were actually smiling upon arrival."

Judy giggled, "I'm sure he'll like hearing that."

Bernie tipped his hat to her and pulled the carriage out. "Au revoir mademoiselle! And take care!"

"Thank you Bernie! And take care too!" Judy waved good-bye to the horse. She then turned and walked over to the opera house's large gate. She gazed at the building once more before shifting her gaze down to the floor. She took in a deep breath, bracing herself to take that first big step. This was it, she thought - the point of no return.

Judy stepped past the gate and opened her eyes. Nothing had changed of course, but she was proud of herself for at least taking that first figurative and literal step. More so because something told her that from this point forward, nothing would ever be the same again. Why that was, she did not know. Perhaps it was because her father would not be there to join her. But whatever the reason, she knew for certain that she'd do what she could to make him proud. "Well Father," she said with a determined sigh, "Here goes."

Once Judy had stepped inside, her jaw dropped in awe once more. The inside of the opera house was absolutely beautiful! True she knew it would be beautiful, but it had been so long since she had last been inside it that she had almost forgotten how enormous and gorgeous it was. As she moved forward down the long aisle, she couldn't help but keep her amethyst eyes glued to everything. The rows upon rows of both large and small red cushioned seats, the finely crafted balcony boxes, the humongously large and spellbindingly beautiful crystal chandelier that hung up on high above the first row of seats.

It wasn't until she lowered her gaze from the chandelier down to the stage that she at last noticed some mammals standing there. Her eyes sparkled when she saw that they were hanging up a large banner which read, 'Welcome Judy!'.

"Okay, I think that looks good. What do you think Gazelle?" Judy overheard a pale yellow furred vixen with her back to her ask a tall gazelle.

"Hmm?" pondered the gazelle, "I think the left side should be a little higher. It's still a little lopsided. Finnick sweetie, can you please raise it up a little bit on this side!" the gazelle called up to the small fennec fox from before.

"You got it gorgeous!" the miniature fox called back down to her.

Judy approached the stage where the gazelle and vixen stood, "Excuse me," she said as the gazelle and vixen turned to face her, "Hi!" she waved at them. "I'm looking for Madame Winter or Skye Winter. I'm Judy Hopps. I think you've been expecting me?" she pointed up to the banner with a smile.

The vixen's eyes widened, "Judy? Is that really you?" she asked with a smile.

"Skye?" Judy asked after she had finally managed to get a good look at the vixen's face.

"Judy!" squealed the vixen in delight.

"Skye!" Judy squeaked in return, dropping her bags to run to her friend.

Skye ran off the stage just as Judy met her halfway. The two girls embraced each other in a strong hug! They pulled away, still holding each other's paws as they each took in the other's now grown appearance. "Judy look at you. You're so beautiful!"

"I could say the same to you Skye! You're so pretty!" replied the bunny as she glanced down at Skye's blue dress. "I love your dress!"

"Thanks, I really like yours too," replied the vixen, "Mother said to dress appropriately for your arrival. Couldn't greet you at the door in my tutu, now could I?"

Judy giggled, "No I guess not." The two girls giggled as they released each other's paws. "It's so great to see you Skye. It's been too long."

"Yeah. Nine years. Hard to believe we were still little girls when we last saw each other."

"I know," concurred Judy.

Gazelle made her way to them. "Well isn't that rude of you Skye. Aren't you going to introduce us?" she said playfully.

"Oh yeah. Judy this is Gazelle, she's one of my closest friends here and is our opera house's prima donna. Gazelle, this is Judy. My childhood best friend."

"It's a pleasure," said the bunny, extending a paw.

"Likewise," replied the gazelle as the two shook paw and hoof.

Skye pointed up to the stage where Finnick and Gideon, a chubby red fox, stood on top of ladders beside the banner. "Those two over there are some of our flyworkers, Finnick and Gideon. Say hello to Judy guys!" she called up to them.

"Hey how are ya!" replied finnick with a tip of his newsies cap.

"A pleasure!" Gideon called back.

"Nice to meet you!" answered the bunny to the two.

"So," Gazelle said, garnering Judy's attention. "Skye tells me that you're quite the gifted singer. Is that true?"

"Uh...well I wouldn't say gifted," Judy replied modestly.

"Aw, come on Judy. There's no need to be modest. She's actually very good at it," Skye replied.

"Well, maybe we can hear you sing. I know they'll be holding singing auditions very soon. We'll be performing _Carmen_ in two months. You should try out," suggested the gazelle to Judy.

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it." Judy uttered somewhat uneasily. A part of her eager and desperate to sing, but the other half of her terrified of the very idea. Terrified, because she feared it would be disrespectful to her father to sing so eagerly without him and so soon after his death.

"But you really should. Skye said you have the voice of an angel," Gazelle pushed on.

"Uh...well I…" Judy stammered as Skye noticed how uncomfortable the mere suggestion of singing made her.

The vixen stepped in to help out her friend, "She does have the voice of an angel, I can promise you that. But as much as we'd all love to hear Judy sing, I'm afraid she's only come to join us as a member of our ballet troupe. Isn't that right Judy?"

Judy smiled at the vixen, "Yeah. I mean...don't get me wrong, I love to sing. But I've never sung in front of such a large audience before, and I don't think I'm ready for such a challenge just yet."

Gazelle frowned, "That's a shame."

"Don't worry," Skye began, "She's just as good a dancer as she is a singer, so I think she'll be alright."

Gazelle nodded in agreement, "I guess if it's what makes you comfortable. It would be nice to hear you sing one day though."

Though still doubtful of herself, Judy nodded politely, "Hopefully one day."

"Hey!" Skye cut in, "How about we give you a tour of the rest of the opera house! I know the rest of the girls are eager to meet you."

"That'd be nice Skye, but I was wondering if maybe you could show me where I'll be staying first? I'd kind of like to drop off these heavy bags before I drag them all over the place," Judy chuckled a little.

"Oh right, come this way," Skye said with a wave of her paw. The three girls headed backstage to the dressing room area. With such a large opera house, it was possible for practically every performer to receive a room. Skye opened the door to Judy's room. It was spacious and had a bed, vanity table and mirror, a dresser, and a large body mirror right across from her bed. Judy stepped in alone, taking in her new room...her new home. It was beautiful, but it also served as a heavy reminder that she was no longer home. She truly was at L'Opéra Populaire...without her father. She had been asked to sing...without her father. She had been _tempted _to sing...without her father.

She _wanted_ to sing! She _had_ to sing!

Skye and Gazelle glanced at one another, noticing Judy's suddenly silent and somewhat melancholy behavior. "Judy? Are you okay?" Skye asked with concern.

Judy turned to them, "I'm okay. I guess I just need a minute to settle in."

"Don't worry about it," said a completely understanding Skye, "Take as long as you need. We'll come get you when you're ready." Skye shut the door and she and Gazelle left Judy alone in her room.

Judy walked further into her room and stood in the middle. She set her bags down and noticed a nearby table. On the table, she spotted some musical pages for the _Marriage of Figaro_ and _Carmen_. She had not gazed upon musical sheets in quite some time, it almost felt refreshing to view them. She set the pages back down, then saw that just across the table were a cross, a candle, and a box of matches.

In light of the holy object, she pulled out a small portrait of her father from one of her bags and set it on the table beside the cross.

As she focused on the religious symbol, it spurred her brother's words to play back in her head. "_Don't you remember father's promise to you before he died? He will send you the Angel of Music to watch over you and guide you in his stead."_

Judy's gaze fell in thought. She knew she didn't want to sing without her father, but she _needed _to sing. Not only because she loved to do so, but because it was also her outlet. And she desperately needed to express herself after so many days of silence.

If her brother was right and if her father had indeed sent her an angel, then perhaps it would be okay to sing without him, right? She mulled over her father's and brother's words a little longer, until a thought popped in her head. A theory behind her father's meaning that she hadn't thought of before…

What if what her father meant...was that _he, _her father, would be her Angel of Music? And he would come and watch over her and continue to sing with her even after death?

If that was the case…

Curiosity and hope reigned in Judy's mind. Perhaps she _would _be able to sing with her father once more! She felt a song swell deep in her heart at the thought. And for the first time ever in weeks, she felt the urge to sing itch at her throat and break free at last through her angelic voice.

_**Father, you once spoke of an angel**_

_**I used to dream it was fantasy**_

_**Now I believe more than ever**_

_**And I know you're here**_

She sang, no longer able or willing to restrain herself. Her voice was as many had described it to be: angelic, bordering on _seraphic_. True, her voice sounded somewhat untrained and rusty from its lack of usage, but even still there was something unnaturally pure, gentle, soft, yet powerful about it.

_**Here in this room, please come and find me**_

_**Father, my guardian angel**_

_**I am here, awaiting your instruction**_

Judy took a match from the box and lit it to light the candle in honor of her father - her angel of music. She blew out the match, but kept it tightly in her paws as she paced the room. She kept her gaze up, hopeful to hear a response.

_**Heed to my calls, father**_

Judy turned to her reflection in the mirror…

She slowly approached it with each lyric.

_**Come to me my angel of music,**_

_**Help my voice to soar once more**_

_**I wish to sing beside you as before**_

Judy placed a paw at the mirror as she sang to her reflection.

_**Please make it so…**_

Judy took a deep breath as her voice crescendoed into a beautiful plea as her powerful voice echoed through...past beyond the mirror and into a long, dark secret corridor that lay behind it.

_**Angel of Music,**_

_**Guide and Guardian!**_

_**Grant to me your glory!**_

Her angelic voice resonated all throughout the secret corridor and down into an enormous hall that served as a sort of intersection where dozens upon dozens of corridors met. In that room, a certain masked fox just so happened to land ashore to where the dark waters met concrete land. He hopped off his boat and took a rope to tie it ashore to the platform.

It was then…

That his pointed ear twitched, catching wind of an absolutely subliminal sound. He turned to realize that it was a voice. But who's? In all his years at the opera house, he had never heard such a beautiful and unique voice. Not since…

"Mother?" he uttered.

He shook his head in disbelief. No, it couldn't be. His mother was dead. And it couldn't be her spirit. His mother hated him at the time of her death after all. And her ghost had never presented itself to him before, so it couldn't be her. Could it?

He pivoted his ear in the direction of the voice, determined to find out who it truly was that was singing, as he heard its beautiful call once more.

_**Angel of Music,**_

_**Hide no longer!**_

_**Come to me strange Angel!**_

Nick quickly obeyed, as if the voice's dictation were directed at him, and followed its echoing call into one of the many corridors. He ran up the corridor's stairway and into the actual long corridor that connected to Judy's one way mirror. He ran as fast as he could, desperate to find the source of the voice as it grew louder the more he approached. He was on the right track.

_**For even as I sing here by my lonesome,**_

He heard the voice call much more softly, but still just as beautifully. He stopped, when he was close enough to see what appeared to be the semblance of a short gray, curvy figure in a purple dress, standing in the distance past the one way mirror with her back to it.

Nick slowly approached the figure. He had his confirmation now that the voice did not belong to his mother. But who was this? From what he knew, there were no gray furred rabbit does in the ballet troupe or among the theater's actresses or singers. So who was this? This angel that sang of an angel of music.

Whoever this heavenly siren was, all he knew was that he could no longer turn away. She had him snared in her trance. One of which he could not break free of, nor wished to free himself from. He continued to approach her, stepping closer and closer to her as she continued to sing…

_**I know that you'll come join me, very soon**_

_**I await eagerly your arrival,**_

_**Here by my side…**_

The mystery bunny turned to face the mirror once more as her voice escalated in another crescendo.

It was at that very moment where the Phantom fox, was at last truly able to lay eyes upon the source of the bewitching voice.

_**Angel of Music,**_

_**Guide and Guardian!**_

_**Grant to me your glory!**_

His emerald eyes widened and his jaw dropped the very second he laid eyes on her and heard that hauntingly devine voice escape her mouth. He felt his already racing heart increase its pace and he felt his cheeks burn red in a blush. His open mouth felt dry and his paws felt cold and clammy.

He couldn't look away from her. Everything about her called to him, despite her being a rabbit. Her lovely figure, her gentle facial features, her soft gray fur, those gorgeous long ears which draped behind her shoulders and made her look so feminine, her sparkling amethyst eyes which shone as bright as actual gemstones. And of course that heavenly voice…

He had seen many females before, both in and outside of the theater, but none had ever spellbound him as much as her. She was...the most _beautiful_ creature he had ever seen.

_**Angel of Music,**_

_**Hide no longer!**_

_**Come to me strange Angel!**_

Judy gazed directly into the mirror. Though Nick knew that she could not see him through her end, the way she gazed in the mirror made him gasp and flinch. For a moment he thought that she had seen him as she looked directly to where his eyes were.

He breathed quietly on his end, hyperventilating out of sheer timidness. He held his breath, when she reached her paw forward and placed it on the mirror - over where Nick's chest and heart were.

_**I can feel you're with me even now**_

She sang lightly and softly.

_**Please don't delay, **_

_**I await the day,**_

_**Come soon to me, my mentor**_

_**And make melodies, once more with me**_

_**My Angel…**_

Nick blinked, his mind still in disbelief that such a beautiful creature could exist. He lifted a trembling paw, desperate to touch her face despite the mirror that stood between them. Before his paw could reach the glass, the door to Judy's room opened. Nick and Judy both turned to it.

It was Skye at the door. "Judy?"

"Oh! Hey Skye," she said somewhat embarrassed, hoping the vixen had not heard her.

"I-I came to get you," she said, somewhat awkwardly and as if she had more to say. The vixen stepped in and closed the door behind her, "I know this is none of my business, but...were you singing?"

Judy's ears blushed in embarrassment, "Wha-What makes you say that? Hehe," she chuckled bashfully.

"Well I thought I heard singing coming from your room when I was walking down the hall to come get you. Was that really you singing?"

Though hesitant, Judy answered honestly, "Y-Yeah, it was."

Skye ran up to her and grabbed her paws, "Judy!" she chirped with an enthusiastic and incredulous chuckle, "You sound amazing!"

As they spoke, Nick just watched them from behind the mirror and nodded in agreement to the vixen's comment as his eyes fell on Judy.

"No," Judy replied modestly, "That's not the best I can do. I haven't sung in a little over a month. I'm still kind of rusty."

Nick shrugged behind the mirror as if saying, 'maybe a little, yeah'. With his naturally gifted musical ear, he had to admit that he _could _hear some very minor areas where she could use some work. But even then, she was nowhere near bad. She was still well above average. With some proper training, he dared to believe that she might even be capable of surpassing his own mother in vocal skills.

"That's rusty?!" Skye scoffed in disbelief, "Judy that doesn't even come close. Gazelle's right, you really should consider auditioning for our next musical!"

Judy shook her head, "Maybe if I had more training, but for now I don't think that'd be a very good idea."

Skye sighed and grimaced in disappointment, but she understood Judy's true reasons for not wanting to sing as she saw the bunny silently glance over at the small portrait of her late father. "Well," said the vixen, "I guess it's like Gazelle said. Whatever makes you comfortable, right?"

Judy nodded.

"Come on," said Skye, changing the subject, "The rest of the girls set up this whole slumber party thing for you up in one of the attics."

"The attics?" Judy asked.

"Yeah, it's where our flyworkers sleep. I guess some of the girls wanted to be surrounded by males after today's scare."

"What scare?" Judy asked, as Nick flinched behind the mirror. Terrified of Skye revealing his haunting existence to the bunny.

"Uh...nothing. Just...uh...there was a really big bug in one of the girl's tutus and it scared her a lot. So, hey let's go. They're all eager to meet you Judy. Can't keep them waiting any longer," Skye said, pulling Judy out of the room with her.

"O-Okay," Judy said as she was practically dragged out of the room. They shut the door behind them, leaving the room all alone.

Not a sound was heard in the now empty room, save for one word that was whispered by the haunting voice of the fox Phantom in the mirror, "Judy…"

...

_**A/N:**_

_**Of course I wouldn't kill Nick off. That's not Phantom of the Opera ;)**_

_**What is Phantom of the Opera though, is that it seems our foxy Phantom is completely smitten by the musically gifted Judy. **_

_**I know that in the actual musical we start off knowing that the Phantom and Christine already know each other, but I wanted to start earlier from that point - when they first meet each other. **_

_**So yes, though this will be a pretty dark fic (as you were able to see from the Prologue), you can indeed expect fluff...and A LOT of it in the next chapter or two. ;3**_


	3. Chapter 2: His Muse

_**A/N: A new chapter yay! My only regret though is that we're so close to Christmas and I couldn't finish the next chapter on time. There's supposed to be a portion of the next chapter that takes place during Christmas time. Oh well, hope you enjoy and I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :D**_

_**For links to the songs in this or other future/past chapters, please check out my Tumblr. The music presented in this chapter is from The Marriage of Figaro, an opera composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.**_

…

**Chapter 2: His Muse**

The young fox Phantom remained in place behind the mirror. His mind still in awe at the new bunny.

_Judy…_

Her name echoed in his mind and heart, and it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

What was this strange, yet grand and wonderful feeling that he felt? It was beyond anything he had ever felt before.

Curious, Nick slid two layers of glass pane open through his end of the mirror and entered Judy's room. He quietly stepped in and noticed her travel bags resting on the floor. It was then that he realized that Judy must be the new girl Madame Winter was talking about earlier. It was no wonder he had never seen her around before.

To his left, he saw the portrait of Stu Hopps and the burning vigil candle on the table. He picked up the picture frame. The top border of the frame read: 'STUART HOPPS (1825 - 1881)'. The masked fox's emerald eyes scanned the black and white photograph of the middle aged bunny, whom he assumed had to be Judy's father. His eyes stopped on the last name 'Hopps'.

"Judy Hopps…" he echoed quietly, wanting to forever brand her full name in his mind.

His eyes then wandered onto the death date at the top of the frame. The fox grew sad at that last detail. He knew all too well what it was like to lose a father.

He set the frame back down on the table and saw that there were a set of tiny bunny ears poking out from one of Judy's travel bags. He curiously reached in and pulled out an 'opera bunny' plushie, complete with an elegant dress, a carrot brooch, and a tall curled wig that just screamed that she was ready for a night at the opera.

Nick couldn't help but curl his lip in humor at the adorable sight. He gently tugged open the bag a little more with his finger to peek inside it and realized that the entire bag was full of stuffed bunnies. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly, "Cute," he said with a smile to the opera bunny in paw.

_knock, knock knock!_

"Judith?" he heard Madame Winter's voice ask through the door. She knocked once more and then opened the door. "Judith is that...you?" She peeked in…...and saw no one there. Madame Winter opened the door all the way and entered. "Odd, I could swear I heard someone in here."

She took notice of Judy's bags on the floor. "Seems she's arrived already." She closed up Judy's open bag and carried them over beside the bed. Meanwhile, Nick hid back behind the full body mirror as he watched her with the little plushie still in his paws. After Madame Winter had set the bags back down, she noticed a frame in Judith's room a bit skewed, "Ugh, Skye said she and May fixed this room. How did I ever raise such a sloppy girl?" She began focusing all her efforts on rearranging that frame, along with anything else that may have been left ill placed around the room.

Nick frowned annoyed that he couldn't enjoy his time in the room for a little longer, but then returned his attention to the plushie in paw. He took the little bunny's paw in between his thumb and index finger, making the little bunny wave at him. He smiled warmly at it.

Realizing that Madame Winter wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, he decided to take his leave with the bunny plushie in tow.

On his way back through the hidden tunnel, he thought back on the song Judy had sung earlier. "_**Angel of Music...**_" he quietly sang and hummed the sweet melody. Judy's beautiful voice still ringing in his ears as he ever so gently held onto the bunny plushie.

He brought a paw to his heart. There was that warmth again. That peace which felt so strange, unfamiliar, yet wonderful.

Once he arrived back to the boat, he climbed aboard and sat the toy across from him as he sailed them back to his lair - completely forgetting about his original mission of searching for Beau Bellwether.

.

The overture to _The Marriage of Figaro_ blared over from the orchestra pit as the orchestra rehearsed for tomorrow night's big show and premiere. At the stage, the stage hands/paws moved around set pieces, preparing themselves for the set and prop transitions for the show tomorrow.

At the front row sat both Monsieur Bogo and Monsieur Clawhauser. Both of them enjoying the music.

May and Sharla stood by the curtains at the wing on the right side when Skye and Judy walked past them. "Skye!" May called to them.

"What are you girls doing here? I thought you two would be upstairs already," Skye asked as she and Judy made their way toward the pig and sheep.

"We originally came down to look for you two, but then we got stuck here. Gazelle's supposed to come on once the overture is over to rehearse," May replied, then turned her focus on Judy. "I take it you're the new girl?" May asked Judy.

"Yeah that's me," the bunny replied with a chipper smile.

"Nice to meet you, I'm May and this is Sharla," introduced the pig.

"Howdy there," said Sharla.

The girls shook paws/hooves in greeting. "Hi," Judy replied, "So are you girls also part of the ballet troupe?"

"Yeah, been part of the troupe for about three years," replied the sheep.

"And I've been here for about five years," answered May. "Skye says you two have been friends since you were kids, right?"

"Yeah," Judy replied. "We met when we were about five and six years old. And have been best friends since then!"

"Well, not counting the nine year gap that we haven't seen each other. Still, even without seeing each other in so long, we're still as close as ever," added Skye.

"Absolutely!" Judy replied happily.

"Really? That's incredible!" replied the sheep. "It's great to hear that you two were able to reconnect after so long."

"Shh,shh!" May suddenly interrupted, as her gaze moved forward to the stage. The overture came to an end and the orchestral music transitioned to the next song in the opera, '_Cinque, Dieci, Venti…'_

The girls all turned their full attention toward the stage as most of the stage workers, including Finnick and Gideon, joined them at the wings. A tall, muscular tiger named Felix, who was clad in 18th century servant's clothing exited from the left wing and onto the stage. He had a ruler in his paw. Gazelle meanwhile rushed to the right wing where Judy and the others stood. "Am I late?" she asked, a little out of breath.

"Just in time hun," replied Finnick as she puffed the blonde tuft of hair on her head.

"I couldn't find my veil," she replied as she adjusted the veil in her hoof.

Gazelle's tiger co-star - and L'Opéra Populaire's primo don - walked through a door from one of the set pieces, entering his 'home'.

"I think that's your cue," said Finnick to the gazelle who nodded back at him.

"Wish me luck," she said to Finnick and the rest of her friends.

"Good luck," replied all the girls as they all saw her walk onstage with the veil in hoof. She entered through her own door from the set piece, meeting up with the tiger inside. Gazelle leaped into the tiger's arms and he received her with just as much gusto. They were supposed to be the soon to be wed couple of Figaro and Susanna in the production. They shared a small kiss and then went on to do their own thing. Gazelle stood before a mirror, gazing at herself while Felix measured the floor where their 'wedding bed' was to go.

Felix began to sing in Italian and in a deep tenor once it was his cue.

_**Cinque…**_

He marked the measurements with a pencil and continued to measure in song.

_**Dieci…**_

_**Venti…**_

_**Trenta…**_

_**Trentasei…**_

_**Quarantatre…**_

Once he was done measuring for the moment, it came to be Gazelle's turn to sing. She placed the veil over her head, admiring it and adjusting it over hear head as she sang her part in a beautiful classic soprano.

_**Ora sì ch'io son contenta;**_

_**Sembra fatto inver per me,**_

_**Sembra fatto inver per me**_

Back at the wings, Judy watched both actors with such admiration. "She's good!" Judy whispered enthusiastically to Skye and the others. "I've never heard such a beautifully trained voice like hers. I can see why she's this opera house's primadonna!"

"Of course she is," replied Finnick. "I don't think there's another girl around who can reach my girl's level of singin' talent."

"Oh I don't know about that Finnick. We might have a few little surprises lurking around closer than we think, eh Judy?" Skye asked with a nudge of her elbow to the bunny.

Judy frowned annoyed yet humored at her friend, knowing exactly what it was she was trying to get at.

They continued to watch them as Gazelle and Felix continued to sing and act on stage.

Gazelle:

_**Guarda un po', mio caro Figaro,**_

Felix:

_**Venti**_

Gazelle:

_**Guarda un po',**_

Felix:

_**Trenta**_

Gazelle:

_**Guarda un po',**_

_**Guarda adesso il mio cappello**_

Felix:

_**Trentasei**_

Gazelle:

_**Guarda adesso il mio cappello**_

Felix:

_**Quarantatre**_

Gazelle:

_**Guarda un po', mio caro Figaro,**_

_**Guarda adesso il mio cappello**_

_**il mio cappello**_

_**il mio cappello**_

As Judy watched the tiger and gazelle sing, she couldn't help but mouth out some of the lyrics with inaudible breaths. She knew the piece well. Her father had taken her to watch a much less extravagant, but still stellar production of _The Marriage of Figaro_ at the small local theater at Bunny Burrow (the town she had moved to when she left Zootopia) when she was about fourteen years old.

Unbeknownst to her, her inaudible singing did not go unnoticed by Skye and the other girls. They looked at one another and kept their eyes on Judy, who eventually noticed their staring.

Judy smiled awkwardly and shrugged embarrassed, "It's a good song."

The other girls looked away, as did Skye, but she felt upset knowing full well what it was that caused her bunny friend's reluctance to sing.

Judy frowned, having a pretty good idea of what it was that Skye was thinking. She looked back onstage and couldn't help but stare longingly at the gazelle and tiger's performance. Though Judy had been able to express herself through song earlier, she knew that she still didn't quite feel like her old self yet and that something in her life was still missing.

She sighed hopelessly - desperately wishing that the angel of music was not just a fairy tale character that she had come to know from her father's old stories. She wanted to believe that he was in fact real and that he had heard her prayer and would be visiting her soon to ease the pain of her father's absence and to rekindle her love of music once more…

.

Nick rowed the boat all the way back to his lair until he reached the bank of his home. He hopped off the boat and picked up the doll from its seat. He carried it over to the organ and set it down next to the music sheets of his unfinished opera.

He sighed happily at the plushie as he rested his crossed arms over the polished wooden cover of the organ's keydesk. The enamored fox began to once again hum 'Angel of Music' as he closed his eyes and happily swayed side to side, wagging his tail to the rhythm of the music in his head.

He felt just like a happy kit again without a care in the world.

Nick lazily opened his eyes and stared quietly at his music sheets as he hummed. The hopeful beat of 'Angel of Music' soon began to transform into the sad hums of his depressingly dark libretto's music. He frowned as the dark music overwhelmed his heart with sadness - the sadness of his miserable life's unpleasant memories - all perfectly represented in a fictitiously ironic libretto about a casanova fox who had many lovers, but despite it all he had never known true joy or happiness. In his libretto, it was evident that there was no heaven - only hell and great pain in Don Juan's seemingly lively yet pathetic existence. Despite it all, Don Juan craved for heaven just as much as Nick did. But...heaven never came...

...until today…

Today, he had known heaven for the first time in a long time, for he had witnessed an angel before his very eyes and he had heard her heavenly song.

His humming transitioned in tone again, though this time from dark and depressing to light and hopeful once more. It wasn't 'Angel of Music' this time however, it was something new, but it bore the same hopeful spirit - as well as the same beautiful voice of a certain bunny singing it.

Nick felt the warmth in his heart return at the mere thought of her and her unmatched voice. That voice which could somehow light the darkness that clouded both his heart and libretto.

It was then that Nick knew that if Don Juan was to ever find the heaven he seeked, then it would only be through her voice.

Nick's ears suddenly perked at the thought. "That's it!" he exclaimed excitedly.

He ran toward his large bed and struggled to pull something heavy from underneath it. He dragged the item over a square patterned rug that lay beside his bed. The large item in question - was an open **coffin**.

The coffin itself, as most every other item within his lair, was a former prop from a stage production of Ram Stoker's _Dracula_. To Nick however, it was more than just a set piece, it would serve as his bed most nights and in time it would come to be his final resting place once he finished his libretto and murdered Beau Bellwether and his fellow rams.

He knew full well that age wouldn't be what would kill him in time, because he didn't intend on living long. Once he would accomplish his goals, then what? He had no family. Nor would he ever have one because of his hideous face. A career in music? Impossible. Sure, he had great faith in his libretto and believed it to be a masterpiece, but he had no intention of ever releasing it to the world. The day he would die (or rather, take his own life on his own terms), he would rest with it in his arms in his coffin. They would rot away together, forgotten by the merciless and cruel world - just him and his most _prized possession_.

That was his dream...

...Up until now...

Now...he felt different. He felt a strange calming feeling which made his heart feel...light. Was it hope? Is this what hope felt like?

The phantom fox decided that he would think about that later, right now he needed to find his previous notes for his libretto! He had been suffering from the worst case of writer's block and had only worked on it sparingly throughout the years. He could never think of a satisfying ending, but now he had one clear in his mind!

The fox dug into the coffin, pushing aside various scribbled notes and music sheets, desperately searching for something. He finally found what he was looking for. It was a book that was filled with his most recent notes and spare music sheets. He carried the book over to the organ, opening it over to a page that posed the question: 'Ending?'

Nick took a pen and began writing, filling in the blank space that lay below the question on the page. He then closed up the book and tore off the old scribbled sheets from the music stand and replaced them with new blank sheets. He started playing a few keys on the organ - recreating the new rhythm he had been humming earlier, though this time he wrote down every note he played.

As it would seem, Don Juan was Triumphant once more!

.

Sometime later, Madame Winter approached the backstage area where the orchestra and stage workers were putting away all their instruments, set pieces, and props. Looking past the wings, Madame Winter noticed that Monsieurs Bogo and Clawhauser were speaking with Gazelle.

They both seemed very impressed with her, but more so the chubby cheetah who was absolutely gushing at the gazelle and filling her with praise. Madame Winter approached them as Clawhauser spoke, " I know I said this already, but you have the voice of an angel! O. , are you amazing!"

"Aww, you're too much," giggled the flattered Gazelle.

"Oh but I mean it," continued the cheetah, "You even brought a tear in Monsieur Bogo's eye, and he's never moved by anything."

"Uh," Bogo cleared his throat with a fierce blush of embarrassment, "Clawhauser, I don't think you need to share unnecessary details like that. And in any case, I wasn't crying."

"But I saw you-"

"My compliments to you, Mademoiselle Gazelle," stated the buffalo, completely cutting off and ignoring the cheetah, "I agree that you were rather marvelous and deserve all the praise coming to you." Bogo shook her hoof.

"Thank you Monsieur Bogo. You're too kind," replied the Gazelle with an appreciative smile.

"Don't be too modest Gazelle," spoke Madame Winter as she approached them, "You have been working just as hard as everyone else in this production and you have earned your praise."

"Thank you Madame," answered the Gazelle.

"Madame Winter, was it?" asked Bogo of the vixen.

"Oui," she replied, "I believe we were not properly introduced earlier." The vixen shook paws/hooves with the two notaries.

"I am Monsieur Bogo and this is my associate Monsieur Benjamin Clawhauser. We are Comte Savage's notaries and temporary representatives of his ownership while he is away for the next six months."

"Is that so? Then I suppose it is you whom I must inform of this opera house's inner workings."

"Inner workings?" Bogo asked, uncertain of what she meant by that.

The vixen glanced over to Gazelle, "Gazelle my dear, would you please spare us a moment?"

"Oh! Yes, right," replied the gazelle obediently, already having a pretty good idea of what they were going to be talking about. "I have a party to go to anyway. Please excuse me. It was nice meeting you two," she said to Bogo and Clawhauser with a polite curtsy.

"Is that party for Judith's arrival?" asked Madame Winter.

"Yes ma'am."

"Tell her I said hello then. And be sure that you all go to bed early. You have a performance tomorrow and I won't tolerate grogginess out of anyone tomorrow morning. Is that clear?" said the elder vixen with a stern tone.

"Yes ma'am. I will be sure to let the others know."

Gazelle nodded and left, but not before Clawhauser yelled out one more, "It was nice meeting you!"

"You appear to run a tight ship, Madame Winter," said Bogo rather impressed as he too admired punctuality and order.

"Yes well, one must do so if we are to have a successful opera house. Now come with me, walk with me gentlemammals." Madame Winter led them backstage as they headed toward a buffet table which still had plenty of food sprawled out throughout it. "So you say Comte Savage has entrusted you two with his share of the opera house while he is away."

"Yes, he said he had some personal and financial matters to tend to before running the theater himself," replied Bogo.

"I see," answered the vixen as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the spread, "Coffee?"

"No thank you," replied Bogo.

"Well then feel free to help yourselves to anything else you'd like," she said with a wave of her paw over the spread.

"Ooh! Don't mind if I do," said Clawhauser delightedly as he helped himself to some food.

"Tell me Monsieur Bogo," continued the vixen, "Where is the other notary that was accompanying you this morning? There were three of you were there not?"

"Yes, Monsieur Ramses. He is not with our firm though. He is the second buyer's notary."

"And who is the second buyer?" inquired Madame Winter.

"We don't know. He wouldn't say and even Comte Savage has kept that information secret from us. He referred to it as a hush hush situation."

"I see. Do you know where he is now?"

"Oh, he thsaid fhe fwas going thoo bed early," replied Clawhauser with a mouth full of pastries.

"Please refrain from speaking with your mouth full, it's rude," answered the vixen critically.

"I tell him that all the time, but he never listens," added the buffalo as Clawhauser lowered his head in shame.

"I'm thwarry," he muffled with a mouth full of pastry.

"Anyway," Bogo began, "It's as my associate said, Monsieur Ramses said he was going to bed early."

"Are you all sleeping in the bedroom adjoining his office?" asked the vixen.

"Yes, so rest assured we know where to go when we are to turn in," replied Bogo.

.

As Bogo and Madame Winter conversed, Monsieur Ramses was indeed at Monsieur LeRoe's former office, but he was anything but asleep…

The ram was sifting through Bogo's briefcase in search of something. "Ah," the ram uttered quietly as he pulled out what he was looking for - the deed. Bogo and Clawhauser's copy of the deed which stated all the terms and conditions that all parties had agreed to.

Once the ram had what he needed, he took his own copy and sat at Monsieur LeRoe's desk. He took a pen and began to add in something on both copies just above all of their signatures - legitimizing the new addition.

.

"Well if Monsieur Ramses is indisposed at the moment, then I suppose I must ask you both to relay the information I have for you," continued Madame Winter.

"And what information is that Madame Winter?" asked Bogo.

"The Phantom. Monsieur LeRoe has informed you about him, yes?" she asked.

"Yes!" Clawhauser jumped in, carrying arms full of food. "He told us about all the violent incidents that have happened and about the ghost rumors involving Jonathan Wilde and Fang Pandu!"

"So you know not to go against his wishes then?"

"Yes!" cried Clawhauser in a panic.

"No," said Bogo simultaneously.

"You would be wise to side with your associate Monsieur Bogo. This Phantom is not someone to be taken lightly."

Bogo scoffed, "Don't tell me you actually believe in such nonsense?"

"What I believe is not what is important, monsieur. What _is_ important however, is that you do what must be done as temporary owners of this opera house."

"And what precisely must be done, madame?"

"Obey all that the Phantom asks of you without protest," replied the vixen simply.

"Why? We owe him no loyalties. Clawhauser and I are bound by our word only to Comte Savage. Who may I remind you, is not only one of our most important clients, but he is now owner of this opera house and it his wishes that we shall obey."

"On the contrary, monsieur," replied the vixen, "Comte Savage and his co-owner may be the legal owners on paper, but this is the Phantom's theater and his word is law here."

Bogo chuckled, "Absurd. No one knows for certain whether or not he is a ghost or a living mammal. Let alone real. How can a so called spectre own property?"

"Because he makes it his property and quite successfully I might add," replied the vixen as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Bogo.

"Nothing, it's just that despite the many scares and incidents, the theater has had its most successful period in the years that Monsieur LeRoe began to obey the Phantom's creative choices. We may not know who or what he is, but he does have an ear for music."

"Ridiculous," Bogo scoffed with a cross of his arms.

Madame Winter took a sip of her coffee before she spoke again, "Tell me Monsieur Bogo, did Comte Savage put you in charge of discovering the Phantom's true identity while he's gone?"

"Yes," replied the buffalo, uncrossing his arms, "How did you-"

"I've known Comte Savage for years. I know how stubborn he could be when he's skeptical of something he refuses to understand or believe in," she took another sip, "Odd though, that he would task his notaries with such a great responsibility."

"I used to be a police officer prior to a back injury, if you must know," he informed her, to which the vixen nodded.

"All the more reason why you should heed my words. I know this whole Phantom thing seems ridiculous, but I can promise you, monsieurs, ghost or not he is real. And he _is_ merciless if you try to go against him. I tell you this for your own safety. Don't do what Comte Savage asked of you, or you _will _regret it." Madame Winter set her glass down and turned to leave until she remembered something. "Oh, one last thing." She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Bogo.

"What's this?"

"It's just something the Phantom left in my office this morning. I thought I would be giving it to Comte Savage, but I suppose it will be your responsibility for the next six months."

What is it?" asked Bogo as he opened it.

"It's just a reminder that the Phantom's salary is due," she replied simply.

"His _salary_?!" shouted Bogo in disbelief.

"Yes. Monsieur LeRoe would usually pay him 20,000 franc-bucks."

"_Twenty thousand_?!" shouted the buffalo again. "Th-That's absurd!"

"Call it what you will, but I'm certain you'll be able to afford it with Comte Savage as new owner. Not to mention we have our premiere of _The Marriage of Figaro_ tomorrow night. Tickets have already sold out, so there should be plenty of funds to pay him with." The vixen then gave them a nod, "Have a pleasant evening, gentlemammals."

She left, leaving them dumbstruck. Clawhauser took the letter from the stunned Bogo. "We're not really going to continue trying to capture the Phantom, are we Monsieur Bogo? Even after all that Madame Winter told us?"

"Puh," Bogo scoffed at the cheetah's fears, "Of course we are. The Phantom didn't deter Comte Savage and I won't let him deter us either."

"But what if he tries to drop a chandelier on us? Or pushes us off a platform? Or decides to haunt us for the rest of our lives? Or-"

"Calm yourself Clawhauser. It's blatantly obvious that this Phantom is nothing more than a living mammal trying to scare everyone around him."

"What makes you so sure?" asked the cheetah.

Bogo took the letter from the cheetah's paws and showed him its contents right to his face. "What kind of ghost needs money?"

"Oh…" said Clawhauser in realization, "I should've known you'd be one step ahead of things, sir!"

"Of course I would, I wasn't on the police force for twenty years for nothing. I promise you Clawhauser, we _will_ get to the bottom of this. Come hell or high water." Bogo glanced once more at the Phantom's letter, "But for now, we will play his little game. Lure him into a false sense of security. The same will go for that vixen."

"Why Madame Winter?" asked the cheetah curiously.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling that she may know more than she lets on. We will keep an equally vigilant eye on her as well, do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear sir!" Clawhauser saluted him as if he were still the officer he once was.

Bogo nodded, "Come now Clawhauser, we have some finances to review if we are to pay this ridiculous request." The buffalo and cheetah left the backstage area and headed to their temporary office.

.

Elsewhere at the attics, otherwise known as the flyworker dorms…

A coed slumber party was well underway.

"Finn! Finn! Finn! Finn! Finn! Finn!" female and male voices equally cheered Finnick on as he chugged a large bottle of alcohol. He finished it with a swipe of his muzzle and slammed it down on the floor where he sat.

Judy sat beside Skye and clapped as the troupe of ballerinas cheered for Finnick with whooping hollers.

"Not fair! You sure you didn't cheat Finn?" asked another flyworker - a wolf, named Wolford. "There's no way a little guy like you can guzzle down a bottle that size without passing out."

"I told you I wasn't no light weight, now pay up Wolford," ordered the small fox of the wolf who just grumbled in annoyance, but paid up just the same.

Gazelle clapped for him as he leaned back against her lap, "Yay! Good job baby."

"Thanks gorgeous," he looked up and she reached down to kiss him. "Alright, who's next? Anybody? He glanced toward Judy, "How 'bout you new girl? Think you can beat me?"

"Uh, no thanks. I'm not much of a drinker and I highly doubt that I'd have your threshold for alcohol," said Judy, politely declining.

"Suit yourself," Finnick shrugged. "Anyone else?"

"I'll take that challenge," said Felix. The large tiger took the fresh bottle of alcohol that Finnick was offering.

"Is that really a good idea Felix?" asked Skye. "You and Gazelle can't afford to have hangovers during tomorrow night's performance."

"And there she goes again," scoffed Scarlett, "Can we ever have any fun with you around, young Madame Winter?"

Skye bared her teeth annoyingly at Scarlett.

"Don't worry Skye, it's just the one bottle," said the tiger reassuringly, "Besides, if Finnick can handle it, then I think I can too."

"Alright, just be sure you're not slurring your lines tomorrow night." The vixen then turned to Scarlett, "And you be sure to not steal Gideon right from under Sharla's nose."

Sharla looked behind her and noticed Scarlett caressing her fingers through Gideon's tail. The black sheep's jaw dropped furiously and slapped the red vixen's paw away from her boyfriend's tail. The vixen backed off as Sharla glared back at Gideon - his ear was twitching which meant he was enjoying the sensation. "I thought it was you," he declared innocently.

"You better have," said Sharla as she placed her hoof on his tail and pressed it securely around her.

Felix began to chug the bottle of alcohol as most of the girls began to cheer him on. May however moved closer to sit beside Judy and Skye. "So Judy, Skye says you grew up here in Zootopia is that right?"

"Yeah," answered the bunny. "I was born and raised here up until I was eleven years old. After that I moved to Bunny Burrow with my family."

"Bunny Burrow?" asked Sharla, overhearing their conversation. Just then, Felix ceased his chugging, he had only gotten to about three-quarters of the bottle until he felt he had to stop.

He started having a coughing fit as all the girls groaned in disappointment yet clapped him for his effort. "God..._cuh, cuh._..that's some strong liquor."

"What'd I tell ya? What'd I tell ya?" boasted Finnick with a smug, cocky smile.

"Yeah...you win Finn," said Felix with a burning throat as he handed Finnick some money.

Judy and the other girls giggled, amused at the competition. "Anyway," said Sharla, getting them back on topic, "That's so amazing to hear that you were living in Bunny Burrow! You know, me and Gideon are from Bunny Burrow ourselves."

"Really?!" replied the bunny excitedly.

"Yeah, have you ever performed at the Carrot Days Festival? I think I may have seen you sing there once before."

"Yeah, I used to perform there every year with my dad!"

"Right! Your father used to play the violin! I knew I had seen you before!" said the sheep with a cheerful smile. "You two were great! I really loved hearing you both perform! You had such a beautiful voice Judy!"

"Aww, that's so kind of you to say, but I'm sure it's not that great," Judy replied with a modest rub to one of her ears.

"Sure it is, isn't it Gideon?" Sharla asked her boyfriend.

"You kiddin'? Stu Hopps and his angel voiced daughter were the talk of the town when it came to the Carrot Days Festival," confirmed Gideon.

"Is that really true?" Judy asked, amazed to hear that she and her father had made such an impact in Bunny Burrow.

"Course it is," replied the chubby fox, "Ask anybody back at Bunny Burrow and they'll tell you the same. Heck, take _my_ word for it. I was never the musical or sensitive type as a kit, but I gotta tell ya, first time I heard you sing, it brought a tear to my eye."

"Really?" Judy asked in awe.

"He sure did cry," confirmed Sharla. "I never let him live it down when we were kids. Especially given how much of a jerk he was."

"Yeah, Sharla and I didn't really used to get along back then," Gideon said with an embarrassed chuckle and rub of his neck.

"Mm-hm," sassed Sharla with a cross of her arms, "You'd never believe how rude he was to me, Judy. Always picking on me and my brother."

"Yeah," he said continuing to rub his scruff in embarrassment, "I was a major jerk."

Sharla patted his paw with her hoof, "You sure were, but you're my jerk now." The two stared lovingly into one another's eyes... until the tender moment was cut short by Scarlett.

"Yawn, boring," interrupted the red vixen, "Enough with the sappy boring stuff, how about we ask Judy something more interesting?"

"Like what?" asked an offended Sharla.

"Like, did you meet any cute boys while you were at Bunny Burrow? Hmm?" asked the flirty red vixen of Judy. "Or do you have some gorgeous beau waiting for you back home?"

"Why?" sassed Skye of the other vixen, "So you could steal him like you did Sherri's boyfriend?"

"Please," scoffed the red vixen, "I didn't steal Charlie from Sherri."

"No, you stole him from me!" barked another girl in anger, "You stole Edwin from Sherri."

Sherri glared at Scarlett, "I didn't steal Edwin from her either," defended the vixen. "Everyone knows Edwin ran off because he was scared of the Phan-"

Skye acted quickly and tossed a biscuit at Scarlett's face, silencing her before she could finish her sentence.

"Ow! What was that for?" barked the angry red vixen.

"It slipped," replied Skye with a sly grin.

Judy cocked a brow, wondering what that was all about.

"So Judy?" asked one of the other girls, "Is there someone special in your life?"

"Um…well," Judy blushed, a little embarrassed by the question, "I guess...you can say that."

"Oooh!" wooed some of the girls, further embarrassing the bunny as all eyes were now on her.

"Who is it? Who is it?" asked May eagerly, "Can we have a name and description?"

"What kind of animal is he?"

"Is he from Bunny Burrow?" asked the girls, eagerly.

Judy giggled, still blushing. "He's a hare," she said, answering the first girl's question. "And actually, he's an old childhood friend of mine from here in Zootopia."

Everyone around her moved closer to her, eager for more information and with growing smiles. That is... everyone except Skye, who's smile slowly began to fade as her mind quickly began to make the connection as to who it was given the current information.

_She couldn't_... thought the vixen, _She couldn't still have feelings for him too, could she?_

"His name is Jack Savage," said Judy, inadvertently confirming Skye's fears.

"Wait," May cut in, "Do you mean Vicomte Jack Savage, Jack Savage?"

"Yeah," Judy confirmed with a nod, "Do you know him?"

"I used to, his father and mine were business partners some years ago."

"Oh, well yeah. That's him," Judy giggled bashfully.

"Were you guys childhood sweethearts growing up?" asked Sharla.

"You can say that," Judy blushed, "We last saw each other ten years ago when we were kids. His father had to move his family away for business purposes, but before he moved away he took me aside and told me, 'I'll love you forever, Little Lotte' - Little Lotte was his nickname for me - and after that, he kissed me."

"Awwww!" everyone cooed around her, causing her face to burn red. "That's so romantic!" squeaked a bunny with white fur and dark brown spots named Emilia.

Skye meanwhile, grabbed at a necklace hanging at her neck. Her heart was broken and her gaze stuck forward in horror to see everyone rooting for Judy and Jack. Though at the same time, she felt absolutely guilty over that fact. They were her best friends and they were closer in species so she shouldn't feel jealous or angry over their interest in one another.

May turned to Skye and noticed her broken demeanor, just as Emilia asked Judy a follow up question. "Have you two kept in touch after all these years?"

"I'm sorry to say that we haven't. We did for about a year, but once I began traveling with my father and we started performing, we kind of lost track of each other. Plus he moved from Zootopia too, so that made it worse."

"Where'd he move to?" asked Emilia with a disappointed frown.

"I think it might have been...The MeadowLands?"

"It was Podunk in Deer Brooke County," Skye said, almost robotically. "He moved to The MeadowLands four years ago."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot," Judy replied, a bit embarrassed that her friend kept better track of her childhood sweetheart's location than she did. "You have a better memory than I do Skye."

"Well, it's nice to keep track of friends," said Skye with a friendly smile despite a secret twinge of sadness in her voice.

Judy smiled, completely oblivious to the vixen's hidden affection for Jack. "True, I know you two were really close too. I remember how he always really loved dancing with you because he said you were so good at it!"

"Oh yeah!" Skye giggled, reminiscing with joy at the memory, "Remember how he always used to deny that he loved dancing and claimed that he only did it because his mom forced him to learn?"

"I remember," Judy giggled. The two girls laughed wholeheartedly. Skye ceased her laughing however, one she noticed everyone eyeing her as if she was the one who was in love with the hare in question.

The vixen cleared her throat as she struggled not to blush at those precious memories. "Yeah, those uh...those were great times we had together," Skye said, much more composed and as stoic as she normally presented herself, "But come on, we were nowhere near as close as you two were. You two are..._great_ together," she said with a happy yet forced smile.

"Thanks Skye," Judy smiled appreciatively.

"Oh, I really hope you two can find your way back to each other again," sighed the ever hopelessly romantic Emilia.

Judy giggled, "That'd be nice. But even if we don't, that's okay. I mean, we were just children. It's been years since we last saw each other, so who knows if he even still remembers me. For all I know, he's probably changed or met someone else by now."

"Oh no, but you can't give up hope just like that," cried a hopeful Emilia.

"Yeah"

"Yeah," agreed some of the other girls.

May on the other hand, kept an observant eye on Skye, knowing full well that her friend is still in love with Jack. Probably more so than Judy. "I think you're romanticizing things a little too much Emilia," she said in an attempt to dissuade the spotted rabbit and the other girls from favoring only Judy and Jack's union, "I personally think that Judy's taken a very mature and practical stance on the whole situation. After all, it was just a childhood crush. It probably didn't mean anything in the long run, right?"

"You're probably right," Judy said with ears down but with an understanding smile.

Skye felt relief at May's words and Judy's response. But despite her own feelings, the vixen couldn't help but feel guilty. Namely because Judy's ears were drooping, which meant that she wasn't really happy. Besides, she knew that Jack and Judy's story was not over yet, not after what his father had told her about him.

Skye took a deep hesitant breath, but spoke just the same, "You will meet him again."

"What?" Judy asked.

"Jack's coming back here. His dad came by this morning. Turns out Comte Savage is one of this theater's new owners and he told me that Jack is coming back here in another six months. He's…" Skye swallowed hard, "He's still very much in love with you even after all these years."

"He is?" Judy asked, surprised yet touched by the revelation.

"Yeah," Skye replied, pushing back a lump in her throat.

Emilia and the other girls squealed in delight for Judy, while May glared at Skye with a look that said, 'really?!'

"It's not over yet! This is your chance Judy!" cheered Emilia as all the other couples in the room, snuggled up together, hopeful for Judy.

"Do you guys really think so?" asked the blushing bunny.

"Of course!" they all cheered...all except for a very silent Skye and a very unconvinced May. She just couldn't grasp why it was that Skye didn't admit her own feelings for the hare. Much less to the girl who she claimed to be her best friend. Judy would surely be understanding of it all, right?

It was all just an unsolvable puzzle to May. She had known the vixen too as a child - they had met a year after Judy had left to be exact - and she knew just how much the vixen loved the hare. She also knew Jack as a child and to her recollection, he spoke very fondly of the vixen as well, possibly even about as often and affectionately as Skye did about him.

It was not to say that Judy wasn't deserving of Jack, but May couldn't help but feel that there was more to be said between the vixen and hare as well. Maybe it was just her.

Still…

Skye was her friend, and she couldn't let the vixen deny her feelings without her own fair fight for his heart. "Yeah, we're all rooting for you Judy," said May, "_But_ don't let some silly childhood promise cloud your rationality."

"May!" scolded Emilia, "Don't take away her hope."

"I'm not. I'm just being realistic. I know Jack Savage too and he's a great guy, I doubt he's changed for the worse. But still, _six months_ is a long time. He may not have met anyone else, but what if _you_ meet someone else in that time Judy? Zootopia is full of a lot of handsome catches. A fact which I'm sure Scarlett can attest to."

"Mmm, you got that right," purred the flirtatious red vixen.

"Right, see," pointed out the pig.

"What's with you all of the sudden, May?" scoffed Emilia, "Don't you want Judy to be happy?"

"Of course I do, it's just-"

"No, she's right," Judy interjected. "Believe me, I look forward to seeing him again and hopefully rekindling what we once had. But I suppose what May said _could_ turn out to be a possibility. Even though I don't think I could ever like anyone else besides Jack."

Skye frowned, her gaze dropping hopelessly.

"I guess a guy would have to be something pretty darn special for me to ever fall in love with anyone else besides Jack," said a doubtful Judy with a humored giggle.

.

Elsewhere…

Nick had just finished his work for the day. Though he hadn't finished his opera, he had quite the productive day! He had never felt more inspired than he did today! And it was all thanks to his beloved muse, his inspiration, his angel of music, his Judy.

He laid down on his bed, sitting the bunny plushie over his chest, admiring it. He playfully poked at the little carrot brooch at its neck line. "I had a pretty productive day today and I owe it all to you little Carrots. Well, I should say I really owe it all to big Carrots. Or would Judy just be Carrots?" he pondered with a paw beneath his chin. "What do you think Little Carro-!"

He was suddenly cut off by the bunny plush as it fell forward, its sewn on lips landing right against his own as he spoke. Though it was just a toy, his ears stood and his eyes widened in surprise.

Nick couldn't help but stifle a chuckle as he lifted the plushie's lips off from his own, "Why Little Carrots, I didn't know you were so forward," he playfully teased at it, "At least let me court you first."

The masked fox placed a paw against its cheek, caressing it with his thumb, "If only you were the real Judy." He stopped caressing its cheek to place a paw over the white mask on his face. He sighed with a sad shudder, "Who am I kidding though? I bet she'd just run away frightened like everyone else if she were to ever see what's underneath this mask. Not to mention once she finds out about my haunting reputation as the 'Phantom of the Opera'. I'll bet one of those chatty ballerinas has already slipped and told her all about me despite Madame Winter telling them not to." He groaned in frustration, "What if they've told her all about the terrible things I've done? About how much of a monster I am. I know I've done bad things, but I'm not a monster. At least, I don't want to be." He sighed hopelessly, "But what else can I ever be in her eyes, when I can't even speak to her to let her know the real me. The me that's been hidden under this hideous face of mine." Nick sat the plushie back upright on his chest to speak to it directly. "What do you think, my little angel of music?"

Of course the doll gave no response, but the more Nick mulled on what he had called her, the more he thought of something, "Angel of music…" he whispered in thought. He sat up, holding the doll and looking straight at it, "Angel of music," he said again. He thought back on the song Judy had sung earlier and remembered that she had been singing to an unseen entity. To the Angel of Music and begging him to come to her and be by her side. Surely it was to comfort her during her father's absence, Nick figured.

She had arrived and comforted his tortured musical soul. So perhaps...he could return the favor and aid her ailing musical soul in return!

It was then that Nick had thought of a plan. A full proof plan wherein which he would be able to speak to her without her ever having to lay eyes upon him. "Angel of Music!" He cheered with a happy laugh as he held the plushie high in the air. He had his plan!

She would come to know him. But not as the dreaded Phantom of the Opera, but as her Angel of Music.

...

_**A/N: Just so you know, this is technically the last of the more introductory chapters. From the next chapter forward, the story really starts to build a lot more. **_

_**Also as I mentioned in the intro, the next chapter is to involve a Christmas scene and since the next chapter won't be out until some time after Christmas, I hope you can all still enjoy it. It's supposed to be a very sweet chapter if I must give spoilers, so I hope you all look forward to it! ;)**_


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